


Ninetiesville

by GrierCollins



Category: Alice in Chains, Jerry Cantrell (Musician)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 11:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17621639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrierCollins/pseuds/GrierCollins
Summary: Grier, fed up with her life in 2016, falls asleep after watching an episode of My So-Called Life from the 90s. She wakes up IN the nineties, and meets a childhood idol of hers.





	Ninetiesville

**Author's Note:**

> This novel is a work in progress. Any feedback is appreciated, but please, be kind.
> 
> Formatting did not import from Google Docs. Italics for internal thoughts and chapters not bolded.

Chapter One - 2016 Exposition

Grier groggily reaches over to hit the "snooze" button on her iPhone 6S for the second time on this frigid early January morning. The window lets in a little grey light. No sun again today it seems, she thinks. What a Monday. She didn’t even have her birthday to look forward to anymore. 25, she thinks. She burrows back under the covers, as if in doing so she can stave off the impending day ahead - full of meetings, Jennifer Geller, and general humdrum boredom. Her pre-set nine minutes pass way too quickly, and she smacks her alarm in annoyance when it rings, which is what she would like to do to the day as a whole. She throws first one leg over the edge of the bed, then the other. She winces as her bare feet connect with the cool hardwood floors, and stumbles into the adjoining bathroom which connects with her roommate Kamilah's bedroom. She determines that she has already came and went, judging by the hair dryer that is still slightly warm to the touch on the counter, the smell of her vanilla bean body wash in the air, and the silence from downstairs. I should’ve been a detective, she thinks to herself, allowing herself a segway into a fantasy where she is British detective Rachel Scott, beautiful, irreverent, and intuitive, from the BBC’s Scott & Bailey. She watches a lot of Netflix in her downtime - especially loving British mysteries and chick flicks. 

She shakes herself to clear the daydream from her mind then toggles to the Pandora app on her Smart TV. She switches it from the contemporary rap station she listens to at the gym to nineties alternative - which she often sings along to - not well, mind you (she’s a better dancer) - and first on the list is Candlebox. She’s alright with that. She showers slowly, humming along, hoping the warm water will wake her up and motivate her. However, the only solace she can find in the day is that she may be able to stop by her favorite coffee shop on her way to work if she hustles. She blow dries her long hair, glossy and chestnut brown, dabs on some minimal makeup, then steps into her simple but tailored dress clothes, wishing she could wear her standard athleisure instead. She takes a hard look at her reflection in the mirror and thinks to herself, this is as good as it’s going to get. Let’s do this. She then trots down the stairs to the apartment's small but efficient kitchen, and is promptly greeted by her sweet dog Peach. She had been napping in the early morning light, Kamilah thankfully having already let her out before she left for work. Grier tosses her a homemade treat and she snatches it out of the air good-naturedly. Grier’s phone chimes and she glances at her Apple Watch, seeing it is Oliver. She rolls her eyes and thinks to herself, not now, buddy. Grier grabs an organic Honeycrisp apple, a handful of gluten-free granola, her briefcase and peacoat, gives Peach a quick scratch behind the ears, and heads out to begin another thrilling week as an adult.

Stepping out of the door, the wind whips her hair and Grier grabs her jacket and buttons it closed to stave off the chill. It’s already been exceptionally cold for January, the heart of winter for her midwest state. She pulls the wooden door shut and locks it with her key before slipping on her thin black gloves. She trots down the sidewalk, heels clicking, trying to make up for hitting the snooze button, and is relieved to find a short line at Calvin Fletcher’s Coffee Company on Virginia Ave. If hit at the wrong time, the line could extend out of the door. It’d been her favorite since she moved to the apartment, and not just for its proximity to both her home and office. It is an organic, non-profit, trendy spot and, by now, most of the staff know her by name. The Indianapolis elite enjoy the drinks, environment, and, most of all, how good they feel about themselves by doing a good deed and donating the cost of their stylish coffee to charity.

“Hey there, Calvin Pepper with soy coming right up,” exclaims the barista Tommy, who is most definitely a morning person. Today, his naturally blonde hair is pulled into a man-bun, showing off his strong jawline with a hint of blonde stubble, and is somewhat reminiscent of a young Kurt Cobain or Layne Staley. That is a good-looking man, Grier thinks to herself, too bad he is not remotely interested in females. Oh, and never mind the fact that I am not single.

The Calvin Pepper is a traditional cappuccino with honey and cayenne pepper. A great start on a cold, unwelcoming morning. She begrudgingly made the switch from her summer drink, Vietnamese iced coffee, earlier this month after an unseasonably warm December, and Tommy had already caught on. “Almond croissant today?” He asks.

“No thanks, I’m being good,” says Grier glumly, displaying the apple in her hand.

“Good for you honey, I can’t stay out of these pumpkin bars lately. They’re from Circle City Sweets,” says Tommy with a smile and a wink.

“They look great,” Grier says agreeably, though she doesn’t like pumpkin-flavored anything, hoping that trend had stayed in October and November where it belonged. “Thanks! You’re the best,” paying Tommy the requisite $3.50 plus some change in the tip jar.

Grier has just enough time to finish her apple and take a few sips of her espresso before she makes it to Geller Publishing, Inc. She squeezes into the elevator with employees from several other floors then glances at her watch and is relieved that it’s just now 8:00 AM. She didn’t technically need to be in until 9:00, but had learned that wasn’t really the case. She makes it to her desk and wakes her Chromebook from sleep just as her boss and nemesis notices her and makes a beeline toward her desk.

“Nice of you to show Miss Collins,” scoffs Geller. “Some of us have been here for ages already, prepping the Davis deal.” Grier was pretty sure Geller lived at the office. 

“I worked on the offer last night, Ms. Geller, I’m just looking over the fine print on the contract now. I’m ready to go,” says Grier, somehow able to refrain herself from sounding as irritated as she felt and forcing an unnatural smile.

“We’ll see now, won’t we?” Geller chirps as she walks away. Geller, a fortyish spinster whose entire life revolved around this mid-level publishing house and being impossible to deal with, had made life miserable for her executive assistant for the past three years. Grier despised being an assistant, considering she was at the top of her class at Purdue and knew she put in more effort than most of the junior staff combined. When hired, she had envisioned rising quickly to assistant editor and had put all of her effort toward making herself indispensable. Unfortunately, it had not impressed her boss, who just wanted a warm body to do her grunt work and retrieve her full-fat cappuccinos. Grier had tried to find other jobs in Indianapolis but Geller seemed to be her best shot at moving up since it was small, and they had hired when she needed something. Geller despised her youth and ambition, which she knew would not leave her an assistant for long unless she had something to do with it. 

Grier checked and double checked her assigned section of the contract before trudging into the conference room. She sidled up next to her work buddy and local underachiever, Thea, a website designer and social media promoter. Judging by the scent, Thea had been puffing on her electronic cigarette at her desk already this morning. 

“Geller has already been on me about nothing this morning. How’s it going with you?” Grier asks.

“Oh of course she has. I hope you're ready for her to criticize every part of your work,” she rolls her eyes understandingly and takes a bite of a whole wheat banana nut muffin, swiped from the tray in the center of the rectangular wooden conference table. “I’m good by the way, thanks!” She winks. Thea pulls her messy strawberry blonde hair into a ponytail and makes no show of hiding her boredom and the fact that she'd rather be anywhere else. She had one earbud in her ear and asked Siri to play relaxing music semi-discreetly. 

Grier smiles a little, wishing she could so brazenly display her distaste at this unhappy work environment, but instead organizes the papers in her folder and mentally prepares herself for the meeting and the rest of this Monday.  
Chapter Two - Geller Publishing

Lunchtime. Grier pulls her meal out of the employee lounge’s fridge. Quinoa, kale, local portobello mushrooms, and TVP leftover from her dinner two nights before. She should eat at her desk and get some work done, but cannot gain motivation. Of course, the Davis deal went off without a hitch, which is a relief, but not without several snide remarks thrown her way from Geller in front of the entire staff, and Davis as well. She plops down in a stiff armchair in the employee lounge that seems to have been made for appearances more than for lounging and scrolls through her phone as her meal heats up. Oliver. 

She notices another text from him and, resigned, responds, “no I can’t meet up for lunch. Tons to do. Just saw this.”

 

Within seconds, Grier sees the ellipses that indicate Oliver is already responding. Eager beaver, she thinks.

 

“No worries, swing by this evening and I’ll make you dinner. Homemade pizza, your favorite.”

 

Grier exhales. He KNOWS I’m on a health kick. Why would he suggest pizza? “You know I’m not eating that stuff, Oliver.”

 

“Oh, that’s right. Salads?”

 

“I’m going to stay in and get some sleep tonight, could barely get up this morning.”

 

“Okay, no problem. Hope you sleep well.”

 

Grier takes a bite of her lunch in front of the large windows overlooking the city and reflects on her longtime relationship with Oliver. When did it start going wrong?

 

She remembers meeting him five years ago at the Hicks Undergraduate Library freshman year on a late October night in West Lafayette like it was yesterday - one of the first of many nights fueled by espresso, the smell of the books in the air, and multicolored leaves on the ground coming and going. Grier had been overwhelmed - she had been a great student in high school but was finding the transition to college to be more difficult than she had expected. She was just wondering if she should hire a math tutor when she realized she had left her Scientific calculator in her dorm. She glanced around, panicked. If I go back now I will easily lose half an hour of study time, she had thought to herself. She had spotted a good-looking guy in chinos, a button up dress shirt under an olive green sweater, accentuating his dark complexion, and some seriously nice Italian leather shoes. Stay on track, she had thought. He seemed unthreatening (her mother had warned her of the dangers of the big city). What had initially caught her eye was, on the tan round top table, a Scientific calculator that the man had set off to the side and was instead peering intently at his copy of the Catcher in the Rye and jotting down notes. He adjusted his preppy tortoiseshell glasses and pushed a hand through his wavy brown hair absentmindedly. Grier had suddenly felt shy. I need to see if I can borrow that calculator but...it's 11 pm and I'm practically in pajamas. She had glanced down at her heather gray Purdue sweatshirt and her most comfortable (read: not cutest) black yoga pants and Ugg boots...which were essentially house slippers, just way more expensive. She had adjusted her messy bun and sighed, her mind made up. She had walked over to his table and cleared her throat. 

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but I left my calculator at home and I really need to work on this Algebra homework," she had said nervously. "Would you mind if I used yours until you need it back?" 

He had looked up, a little surprised. He had clearly been concentrating on his work. "Sure," he had said with a smile. "No problem". He had handed the calculator to Grier, and by the time she had sat back down, he was back to work. 

Hmm, she thought, should've looked a little nicer for the library I guess. She made a mental note for the next time. She had used the calculator for about an hour and had just thought she should stand up and stretch, maybe take a walk around the library when she had glanced up to see him approaching her table. She smiled up at him.

"Hey, I'm taking off, need to get some sleep before my 7:00 AM tomorrow," he had said with a smile. He had seemed preppy and gave off a sure feeling of upper middle-class society.   
"Thank you so much for your help," she replied, handing the calculator over. "I was just about to take a break anyway."

"Oh nice, so you're making a night of it then?" 

"I hope not, maybe just another half hour." 

"I see. Well, this is my favorite area to study, so let me know if you ever forget anything else. A pencil, paper, espresso," he teased. "My name is Oliver."

"Grier," she smiled again. 

He had left with a wave, and she had felt a pang that she may not see him again and may have missed her shot.

It turned out that was not the case. They had run into each other at a house party that January, and it had been freezing and snowy out. They had both been relieved to see each other again after months of keeping an eye out for the other on campus and Grier making sure she looked good when she went to that part of the library to work. He had walked her back to her dorm and they had stopped for shawarmas on the way. 

She had been impressed by his ambition and charmed by his intelligence and politeness. He was a sophomore which made him seem more worldly, as did his Greek roots. He had survived a year of college, which had seemed like a huge feat to her at that point in the semester. He was not like anyone she had met before in her small town growing up, and they had quickly become an item. Both were studious, loved to read for pleasure, and enjoyed game nights with friends. They had been inseparable for the rest of her time as an undergrad and beyond. 

They had made plans together, integrated their friends and families, and had even discussed moving in together the year before, but she had wanted to hold off. She felt like she had so much more she wanted to do and see before she completely "settled down", though she did care for him. 

In the past couple of years or so since she had graduated from Purdue with her business degree, she had increasingly felt disconnected from him, though he was as present as ever. He was all in. He was so sure of himself and his future and was unwavering in his dedication to becoming an English professor and to her. She admired that about him but it also scared her to death. She was not as sure of her future, and her first job in the publishing field was not at all what she had expected, though perhaps her expectation had been somewhat idealized. Their romance was firmly rooted in college, and she was ready to move on from that phase of her life and start fresh as an adult. She didn't want to lose him, but she had been wondering if a break might be what she needed. She also felt that it was unfair to ask him such a thing when he was so devoted. However, she felt like she had been looking for reasons the past few months to be irritated with him, which was probably even more unfair. She finished her lunch and steeled herself for the rest of the day, making a mental note to have a talk with him tonight and be as honest as possible. Packing up her things, she shot him a quick text. 

"Changed my mind, want to grab a bite after work? I need to talk to you."

His reply came a minute later. "Of course, Red Lion I assume?"

"Perfect." She was dreading the conversation, but knew that it was time to have it. 

Grier was lost in her own little world when Geller popped her head in the break room. Grier hadn't even gotten the requisite thirty minutes to herself. "Pick up Hemingway up from the vet right away. He has stopped vomiting. And dry cleaning and a cappuccino, piping hot, on the way back."

She grudgingly threw her stuff in her bag and headed back out into the cold to do tasks not remotely related to publishing books.   
Chapter Three - The Breakup 

Red Lion Grog House was another local spot near her office, apartment, and not far from Oliver's office as well. It was a common meeting place for them in the past year. There were some hip restaurants in Indianapolis, and she liked the city fine, but had always wanted to live somewhere with a stronger culture. To her, Indianapolis was industrial and impersonal, and she longed for a place with a vibrant music or food scene, like 90's Seattle, Austin, or New Orleans. Maybe one day, she thought, glumly. Sometimes she felt as if she were wasting her youth in the wrong city, and sometimes in the wrong era. She was smart enough to realize that the "grass was always greener", and that her perception of the past or another city was surely flawed and would not be nearly as glamorous as she expected. But she continued to crave it all the same. She was sick of reading about others’ travels and adventures instead of having her own. 

Red Lion was a sleek pub that served upscale British comfort food and burgers plus an array of craft and import beers on Virginia Avenue. Grier craved their vegan shepherd's pie often, especially on cold days such as today. Oliver was partial to their fish and chips, but today they settled for a couple of local IPA draughts. 

Once the bartender had delivered their beverages, Oliver gave Grier his full attention.

"I'm glad you changed your mind, I missed you", he said warmly, standing up to give her a big hug. She breathed in and smelled his familiar smell, a mixture of spices and leather. 

She pulled back and caught his eye and instantly remembered why she had fallen for him. He was so sincere and kind, almost to a fault. She gave him a nervous smile.

"How was work? Everything okay?" he said, reading her face. 

"Work was work, you know how I feel about it," she said dismissively. She didn't like to spend any extra energy discussing her job when she didn't have to. It took up enough of her thoughts as is. "That's not what I wanted to talk about though," she clarified. 

"Okay, what's up? Are you alright?"

"I don't know Oliver, I feel like I'm at an impasse. I am unhappy with how things are going. My life is not at all how I pictured when I was graduating. On paper I have everything I could want, but it's just...not what I want." She paused.

"And this includes me," he stated, realizing where this was heading.

"It's unfair to you for me to continue to look for reasons to be annoyed with you or to blow you off. I am unhappy and I am not ready to be settled down for the rest of my life. I want to break up." She said all of this rather quickly, forcing it off her chest so that it would be over sooner. 

He sat, stunned. "Really? I mean, I know you have been a little distant lately. But Grier, it's me. We have been us for years, and I think we are great together. I see a great future for us, when you are ready for it of course," he added hastily. "Engagement, marriage, kids, life." He confessed. 

"I know. I'm just not on the same page as you with that. I feel like an old married couple when I'm only 25. We have been together since I was 19 and you were 20, and completely together. No indiscretions, no drama. Yes, it's great for us, but I don't want life to pass me by and always wonder, 'what if?' What if we had taken a break? I would be letting both of us down if I didn't follow what my head and heart are both telling me is the right move." She had been feeling for a while that Oliver didn’t truly love her, just the idea of her. 

She had a feeling he didn’t understand where she was coming from at all, but he nodded, and they finished their drinks quietly, and parted ways. They both hoped it was not for the last time, but were aware that it could be. Instead of feeling the relief she expected she would feel, Grier just felt sad. 

 

Chapter Four - Home Sweet Home

Grier walked home slowly, despite the cold air and impending nightfall. She reflected on her relationship with Oliver and wondered if she had made a mistake. She unlocked the door, greeted her Peach, and took her for a short walk around the block after changing shoes and dropping her stuff inside the doorway. The cool air cleared her head a little, as did her furry companion. 

Stepping into the warmth of her cozy apartment, Grier unpacked her briefcase, changed into snug, fleece-lined charcoal leggings, and an oversized Homage hoodie, throwing her hair into a messy ponytail to get it off of her face. She fed Peach, filled her water bowl, then made a quick stir fry for herself and Kamilah, packing the leftovers into a container for her lunch the next day. She ate sitting at the bar, looking over a manuscript for work and some of the contract details for the author - the boring part. She wishes she could just read and edit the books without dealing with the tedious fine print. 

Finishing her meal and her work, she cleaned up after herself, and as she was placing the last dish on the drying rack, Kamilah arrived home. 

"Hey Grier, how is it going?" She asked, shaking off the cold. Kamilah and Grier had been in the same women's studies class during sophomore year at Purdue, and had become thick as thieves instantly. Despite their differences in upbringing, they were both passionate about women's rights, books, and both happened to be vegetarian. They had roomed together during their junior and senior years and moved to this apartment shortly after graduation. Whereas some of her college friendships had fallen away naturally, she and Kamilah had only grown closer. Kamilah was a local journalist, and an excellent one at that. 

"Hey, long day?" she asked. Kamilah was normally home before her. "There's stir fry in the microwave for you."

"Thank you, that sounds perfect," Kamilah said appreciatively. "Yes, a little long, glad to be home and out of that weather. Not ready for this cold.' She took off her long coat and tucked back a piece of the raven hair that had slipped out of her hijab.

Grier agreed. Kamilah heated up her portion of the halal stir fry, made her personal blend of a spiced chamomile tea with a little honey for them, and settled onto the couch with her. They each grabbed a fleece blanket and Grier flipped on the Smart TV. She scrolled through the channels and turned on 90s Nation on MTV, a collection of old music videos, which she loved. She got up to make some maple kettle corn while the video for Extreme's “More Than Words” played. A classic, and one of the most beautiful songs Grier had ever heard. When she sat back down she saw Kamilah had turned on the gas fireplace, and it instantly transformed the apartment, feeling extremely homey and cozy. 

"How about a real show, Grier? It can be from the nineties if you want," she teased. Her slight Egyptian accent was evident as she said this, though she had emigrated to the U.S. when she was five. She spoke Arabic with her family and with a few friends and coworkers. 

Grier switched over to Amazon Prime and found an episode of My So-Called Life, which she loved and knew Kamilah wouldn't mind. During the opening, Grier recounted her breakup to Kamilah. She was surprised, but not overly so. She knew Grier had been having doubts, she just didn't know if she would do anything about it. She had always thought Graham was a little bit of a weenie, despite of, or because of, being so nice, and she thought the Grier and Graham show had been irritatingly perfect all of these years, with no real passion from either side. She had never outright voiced this opinion to Grier though. She could tell that Grier seemed glum, and Kamilah was ready to relax after her day, so they settled in to watch the show. 

In an effort to escape her crummy day/mood, Grier quickly became engrossed in the show while Kamilah caught up on some work on her MacBook Pro and scrolled through her favorite news sites. She loved it, and could easily place herself in Angela Chase's shoes, insecure about her place in the world and infatuated with Jordan Catalano's long hair and aloofness. She was thinking how much she could relate to the nineties and how nice it would be to experience it in her prime - namely the grunge culture in Seattle: going to shows, meeting band boys, drinking coffee. Halfway through, Kamilah brought her a beautiful vegan butter pecan cupcake from the Flying Cupcake with a thin candle to cheer her up, even though her birthday was over. Grier smiled, and blew out the candle, wishing she were living a more exciting and fulfilling life. 

She dozed off during the credits and woke up to see a snoring Peach had taken Kamilah's place next to her. Grier glanced at her SmartWatch - only 6000 steps today, nowhere near her goal. She had skipped the gym in lieu of breaking up with her potential soulmate - and saw that it was 11 o'clock. She groaned inwardly, still unhappy, knowing about five tasks stood between her and her comfortable bed. She switched off the TV, turned off the lights, stumbled up the stairs, blearily rubbed her eyes, washed her face and brushed her teeth, skipping some of her more in-depth regimen for tonight, and plodded into her bedroom, Peach on her heels. 

"Come here Peachy," she called, coaxing her dog.

Peach hopped into bed and snuggled close. 

Grier laid, now wide awake of course, and reflected on her troubles while scratching Peach's head. Peach fell back asleep in minutes while Grier fretted about her job, her boyfriend, and her overall dissatisfaction with life post-college. She wondered if she should go to graduate school, as it seemed that it was hard to do what you truly wanted to do without a Masters degree and/or more than five years of experience doing the grunt work that nobody else wanted to do, to "prove" yourself. She was too impatient, she knew. She thought of Oliver and wondered again why she was so discontent with him. She was so fortunate in many ways and knew that she needed to shift her perspective. It was just hard to do so when she was already down. I wish I could either go back in time to begin college again, or to the early nineties where life seemed simple and enjoyable, and you could be a professional in the career of your choice at my age, with a Bachelor's degree or less, she thought. 

It was 12:30 before she dozed off into a dreamless sleep, after tossing and turning enough to convince Peach she would sleep better at the foot of Kamilah's bed instead. Grier had checked her watch one last time around midnight, switched it to sleep mode, and started dreading the next day. She knew she would be tired, grumpy, and would not want to deal with her boss, the gym, or the mundane Tuesday that was sure to be. Hey, at least I'm single, she thought, without a trace of excitement.

Sometime a few hours later, something woke her, but she was too tired to investigate, so she went back to sleep, kicking off her sheets and wondering why it felt so warm in her room all of a sudden.   
Chapter Five - Ninetiesville

Grier woke on her own. Sunlight streamed through the window next to her bed, and birds were chirping nearby. This isn’t right, she thought. It’s Tuesday, where is my 7:00 AM alarm? Panic hit her and she reached to grab her phone to check the time, but can’t feel it on the nightstand where she normally kept it. She glanced at her wrist to check it on her Apple Watch, but it’s nowhere to be found. Maybe I put it on the charger last night? she hoped. She sat up. She wondered, did I change my sheets? Her bedding was outdated by about 20 years and would be better suited to her parents’ guest room instead of her Urban Outfitters-furnished apartment in Downtown Indianapolis. Her mind cleared and she panicked. What the …? Where - and when - am I? Her face drained of color as she looked around the room, eyes taking in the retro wallpaper. It appeared as she time-warped straight onto the set of My So-Called Life.

Grier smacked herself in the face gently, then harder, trying to clear the dream which was seeming quite real. It didn't work. She stood, and was shocked by the plush, wall-to-wall carpet on the floor. Much warmer than the grey-washed hardwood floors of her apartment. If it had been darker outside, Grier would have climbed back into this foreign bed and went back to sleep, hoping to wake to better conditions. But alas, she had a job to freak out about. 

Just as she was starting to get her bearings, the door to her room slammed open, and a manic blonde, pale with long hair and entirely too much energy, bounded through and hopped on her bed. 

"Hey! You're up early. Heard you rustling around," she said, flashing a big, familiar smile.

She seems to know me...and well. This is confusing. Grier doesn't know how to respond, so she erred on the side of caution. "Hey, good morning..." she trailed off, mind racing. "Yeah...I should probably get going. Have you seen my phone or anything?" she asked hopefully. 

The girl regarded her as if she has lost her mind. "Uhh...it's right here, goof." She pointed to the plastic landline phone on her seriously outdated night table. 

Grier's hopes were dashed, and realization began dawning on her. She looked closely at the girl's clothes. Flowered top, stirrup leggings, and holding a mini backpack with her hair teased. She assumed it was not a costume. 

"I think I need to take the day off," she told her. "Do you know my work number?" 

The girl looked at her dubiously. "Who are you, and what have you done with my roommate? Of course I know your work number, but why don't you?" She pulled an address book out of the tiny backpack. "Here. Are you sick or something?" She was trying to figure out if her friend had been abducted by aliens overnight, and she was only half kidding. 

Grier took it from her gratefully. She looked at the page. She assumed that the number she wanted was Homestead Book Company and not Henry or Hunter, the other two on the page. She dialed the number on the landline while the blonde girl’s large brown eyes continued to watch her carefully. An older woman, judging by the sound of her voice, answered on the second ring.

"Homestead Book Company, Mary speaking," in a clipped tone. 

"Hi Mary, this is Grier Collins, I'm sorry but I'm not feeling well this morning and am going to have to take the day off," she said cautiously. 

"Grier!" her voice warmed instantly. "Are you sure? I thought you had a meeting scheduled this afternoon with Donovan Brooks you wanted to be here for."

"That's right..." she agreed, with no idea of who he was or what her role in a meeting with him would be. "I'm going to take the morning off to rest and will be in after lunch for the meeting." 

"Great. Feel better and we will see you a little later. I'll have Suzy keep minutes from the staff meeting and fax them to you. Do you want me to take a memo to pass along to everyone regarding Brooks today?" she inquired. 

Grier had never felt so fake in her life. "No", she mumbled. "I'll send out an email afterward with the details".

"An email? What are we, living in the future?" Mary responded with a laugh.

Grier blanked. "Right...of course. Just a joke. I'll send out a memo later on. Thanks Mary". She hung up and her new blonde roommate looked at her expectantly. 

"You don't look so good chica, what's wrong? Stomach? A cold?" 

"Yeah, I think I need to rest. Are you on your way somewhere?"

"Duh...you know I have the morning shift at Elliott Bay on Tuesdays. Stop in when you are feeling better and I will make you a cup of joe with cream and sugar, your favorite."

"Great...where is that again?" She hated to ask. 

"Are you kidding? Did you hit your head? Fall out of bed maybe? 10th Ave. between Pike and Pine. You've only been there about a bazillion times, not to mention working there in college!" Her large brown eyes were open wide, disbelieving. 

"Right, yes, I think I did hit my head or something. I will stop in this morning and say hi," Grier was ready to be alone. She was afraid she was digging herself into a hole that may cause this woman to commit her to the local mental hospital or call the cops. 

"Dope. Alright, this conversation has been a major buzz kill, so I'm gonna dip. If you find your memory, bring it with," she said affectionately, tossing her hair back in a scrunchie. A scrunchie. She reminded her of Alicia Silverstone’s Clueless character, Cher. The retro lingo left Grier’s mind spinning.

Thankfully, she did leave after that, and Grier assumed she was alone in this foreign apartment, apparently in a foreign city as well. There was no 10th Ave. between Pike or Pine in Indianapolis. She had a sinking feeling she wouldn't be able to rely on Google Maps or the Internet in general judging by the look of her landline phone and being unable to find a computer anywhere. She felt like she had woken up from a crazy night of partying in college, struggling to get her bearings, remember what happened the night before, and find her things. Well, I’m safe, so there’s that. But she was at a loss for where to go from here. 

She shook herself, thinking it may wake her or transport her or something else positive. Instead it just cleared her head a little. Grier continued her examination of the apartment warily and finally decided, time travel or not, she needed a shower and some food. She grabbed a towel and looked at the severely old-fashioned bathroom decor - in particular the shower curtain which seemed to have come from the set of Saved by the Bell with its flashy bright colors and obscene patterns. She climbed in the shower, used some Herbal Essences since her John Frieda products were nowhere to be found, and set about getting ready for what was sure to be a very interesting day.

Chapter Six - Venturing Out in Ninetiesville

Grier grabbed a fuzzy pink robe off the hook after her shower - totally not her style and maybe not even hers - and opened the closet in the room she woke up in. She was shocked. What on earth was she supposed to wear? She knew she had to go to work later, so she set about finding something appropriate. She was grateful that this Grier was organized, and her closet was divided into work and play, just like her closet from 2016. 

She grudgingly settled on a red suit jacket over a silk shell, black flared trousers and pointed toe stiletto heels. She threw on some chunky (read: tacky) jewelry and some red lipstick. She tried to recall her favorite nineties sitcoms for beauty inspiration and her mind drew a blank. Monica from Friends maybe? Her makeup was all from Maybelline or L'Oreal, none of her Sephora favorites anywhere to be found. She thought she was set to head to the kitchen when she realized that her long, straight hair was probably not en vogue here. She had woken up with it teased and hairsprayed. She didn't really know what to do, so she curled the ends quickly and grabbed a scrunchie. She noticed there was no straightener anywhere nearby. She looked in the mirror, feeling as if it were Halloween, and shook her head. What have I gotten myself into? 

She left the bathroom and passed through the living room. This apartment was a little messier than hers and was only one level instead of two. She, of course, didn't see Peach anywhere, but it still hurt. She opened the cabinets and fridge, hoping to find something edible. Her stomach was growling by this point. They were very low on food here. She had to settle on brown sugar Pop Tarts and a banana, thinking of how she wouldn't be caught dead eating that in her real life. She had to admit that it was delicious though. She grabbed a briefcase by the door, assuming it had to be hers since the roommate worked at a cafe, and left, grabbing a set of keys and locking the door behind her. 

What hit her first was not the difference in locations, but the weather. It was sunny and warmer than Indianapolis had been the previous day. She guessed it had to be late August or early September here in the past. She wondered why she would’ve been sent to a different month, but laughed at herself. That’s what you’re worried about? Weirdo. She looked at the scrap of paper where she had scrawled the address for Elliott Bay Cafe and wandered around until she found a convenience store. Feigning that she was from out of town (well she was, right?), she asked for directions. Fortunately, they were easy and she was able to walk there in five minutes, heels and all. She had to pull off her jacket though, as it was warming up. Figuring out public transportation schedules and routes made her nervous. She noticed everyone around her was dressed in classic nineties retro wear. She felt less conspicuous than she expected, though her long, shiny hair was certainly out of style and could have benefited from some major teasing and a can of Aqua Net. She was momentarily distracted by some attractive skateboarders with long hair and shirts unbuttoned, chests exposed. This dream era certainly seemed to have its perks. 

She glanced at the sign for Elliott Bay Cafe when she arrived and steeled herself for the interactions ahead. She didn't really want to deal with it, but she didn't know what else to do. Plus, there had been no French press in the apartment. 

Grier walked cautiously to the counter, noticing the motto browse, sip, read above the door, and was prepared to order something simple so as to not make a fool of herself. Before she could make it there, she heard her thin, pretty roommate call out to have a seat and she'd bring her coffee and bagel to her. 

Bagel? She wondered. This Grier certainly wasn't as health-conscious as 2016 Grier. She hoped that it was at least whole wheat and vegan.

It wasn't. She could tell her coffee had real cream in after the first sip, and motioned her roommate over. "Sorry to be picky, but do you have any soy or almond milk?" She preferred hemp but knew she would sound like an idiot if she asked for it. 

"Huh? No...are you trying some new fad? We don't have that," she said, patting her head affectionately as if she were a lost puppy. Grier thanked her and, when she looked up, saw that she was wearing a name tag. Lola. 

"Yes just heard about the health benefits, thought it would be worth a try. Thanks again Lola," Grier said with a smile, trying to act normal. 

"No problemo dude. Feeling better? Are we still going tonight?" Lola seemed hopeful, even though she was now positive Grier had been abducted by aliens. 

"Umm...refresh my memory?" 

"The show! New band, remember? Playing at the Off Ramp?" Lola was exasperated, but crossed her fingers behind her back, optimistic that Grier wouldn't cancel on her. Lola, and the Grier she knew, LIVED for grunge music.

"Of course, yes, let's do it," she agreed, thinking she may as well live it up if she were going to be stuck here. She loved music, live in particular, and was hoping based on the 90s nostalgia everywhere that she had ended up somewhere with a scene that mirrored the alternative Pandora playlist she had been listening to just a little over 24 hours before. "Hey, do you have a phone book here I could use?" She was catching on.

"Sure."

Grier clandestinely looked up the address for Homestead Book Company, and flagged down a taxi on the street after finishing her coffee and picking at her strawberry cream cheese and white floured bagel - the horror! - and paying, not believing the low price and the fact that she only had cash and no debit or credit card in her wallet, and passed along the address: 6101 22nd Avenue NW, in the Ballard neighborhood of Seattle. She wondered how close it was and if she would be laughed out of the cab, but he said nothing and dropped her off safely in front of a stand-alone office building about a five-minute drive from the cafe. She glanced at her thin gold wristwatch and saw that she had arrived a little earlier than intended. 

Walking in through the double doors, she was impressed. The lobby, though a little dated, of course, featured hardwood floors, beautiful brickwork, and ornate bronze lighting fixtures. She stepped in once she was as prepared as she could be, knowing she was about to look like an idiot with no idea who anyone was or how to do whatever job she had.

Walking into the busy publishing house, Grier encountered a woman. Mary, she presumed. 

“Grier! Feeling better?” she asked kindly. 

“Yes Mary, thank you. Was just an off morning,” she explained vaguely. 

“I understand completely. Mr. Tatelman asked you to come see him once you arrived.”

“Okay, thank you.”

She stepped in, unsure, and was glad that the entire production didn’t stop to gawk at her as she’d feared. She looked for the nicest office, assuming Tatelman was the head honcho. She wasn’t wrong. 

She knocked hesitantly, hearing someone speaking on the other side. 

“Miss Collins, come on in,” he boomed.

She opened the door and stepped inside, seeing a gray haired man, stout, with glasses. “Good morning Mr. Tatelman,” she said. She wondered if she was his assistant and if she should’ve brought him coffee or picked up his dry cleaning on the way. She didn’t want to get yelled at. 

“Yes, yes, have a seat. An idea I want to bounce off of you for Brooks today.”

“Sure, of course,” she replied. She glanced around, noticing his nameplate on the desk. Editor in Chief. 

“What do you think about the names of his characters? Greta and George...I know there’s alliteration there but I think it gets too confusing for the reader. They’ll want to be able to glance at them and know who they’re talking about.” He seemed a little eccentric to her, using big, dramatic hand gestures while speaking. 

Grier wasn’t sure what to say, so she tried to be agreeable. “You’re right, it gets a little clouded.”

Tatelman nodded enthusiastically, as if it was her idea. “Great. I’ll have Suzy give Brooks a call to run through it with him.”

Grier nodded, and thanked him, completely unsure where to go from here. He said he’d see her at the meeting, so she excused herself. 

She stepped into the hallway and glanced around clandestinely, to see if she could find her cubicle. No such luck, but a mousy young woman came up to her and started reeling off phone messages, appointments, and brought her a hot coffee with cream. She seemed to be an assistant. Suzy asked if she wanted her to put her coffee on her desk, and Grier asked her to lead the way, grateful she didn’t have to search around for it. 

Suzy opened the door to a spacious office with a window, only a little smaller than Tatelman’s. Grier was flabbergasted but did her best to not show it. 

Suzy busied herself, setting her coffee on the desk and passing Grier a memo from the staff meeting. Grier had completely missed half of what Suzy had told her earlier, overwhelmed, so she found a pen and paper and asked her to repeat it, taking notes. 

Suzy looked at her quizzically. 

“What is it?” Grier asked her. 

“It’s just, you don’t have to write it because I have it all typed up for you, just like always.”

Grier paused. “Right. Thanks Suzy.”

Suzy lingered after giving her the notes. “Don’t you need me to do anything?”

Grier shook her head. “Not right now, but I think Tatelman needs you to reach Brooks before the meeting to go over an edit.”

“Sure, I’ll see him. Thank you Miss Collins,” she replied, excusing herself. 

When she was alone, Grier let out a sigh of relief. She was catching on a little, but it was a lot to take in. She looked around her well-decorated and highly organized office, with full bookcases she couldn’t wait to examine. The organized column of floppy disks, neatly labeled, made her laugh. The technology was going to be fun getting used to, she thought sarcastically. She looked at the business cards on the front of her desk. 

Grier E. Collins, Senior Editor 

Senior editor? How on earth had she become a senior editor at 25? She was still 25, right? She must have worked her butt off. She was proud of this Grier, and so excited to have the ability to experience life as an editor finally, even if it was in the past. 

Grier looked through her notes, not finding anything that seemed urgent, then in her briefcase. She found a copy of Donovan Brooks’ manuscript, and started reading and jotting down notes so that she wouldn’t make a fool of herself at the meeting. 

 

Chapter # - JC

After a few weeks of 1990s Seattle - Grier figured out that she had time-traveled to Tuesday, October 15, 1991, Lola Davies and Grier had been to concert after concert of the most prevalent nineties grunge and alternative bands together - a dream come true for her - and had met a few of her all-time favorite artists, which was a huge thrill. She’d also found some new favorite bands and developed an appreciation for some eighties music as well as some hip hop and pop she’d never known about or cared for in the present. 

Life was boring no more. All of a sudden, life was the most exciting it had ever been. She’d felt dumb at certain points for not understanding pop culture references, especially in regard to the eighties, which had never been her thing but had caught on enough to not make herself stand out too much. She also had to bite her tongue when she heard about “new” shows, movies, stars, etc. Which was hard for her, because she loved pop culture and celebrities. Fortunately, she’d stumbled upon a diary 1990s Grier had written in, giving her some insight into her head, her friends, and what she cared about. It had been instrumental in fitting in with her friend group and making Lola not too dubious. 

They had soon found a Saturday night route around Belltown with their friend Bill. The route consisted of a few drinks at the Crocodile before walking over to the 5 Point, seeing bands like the Dwarves or the Afghan Whigs play at RKCNDY or the Off Ramp, then playing a round of Donkey Kong at Shorty's before trekking back up the hill to Queen Anne, where he lived, to hang out and recap the night. Bill was straight out of the show Friends or the movie Singles; a cerebral type who liked to voice every thought that came to mind. Lola thought he was brilliant, and Grier found him to be very entertaining. 

Lola had stated that they were spending their musically formative years going to shows and chasing boys, during an uncharacteristically thoughtful mood. Grier was loving the early 1990s grunge and rock scene, which was surpassing her expectations. Grier smiled inwardly when she overheard people already saying grunge was dead. 

In the midst of concert number 45 or so (who could keep track at this point?), this time in nearby Portland, Oregon, Grier was coming from a trip to the ladies’ room. She was preoccupied with finding Lola and figuring out a plan for after the show, and looked up a second too late, plowing into a gorgeous man. He was tall and slim with long blonde hair under a blue toboggan. 

Now that’s what I’m talking about, she thought, raising her eyebrows, taken aback. 

He looked up, brow furrowed, and rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly.

“Sorry!” She exclaimed. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook it off, “no worries”. He gave her a slight smile, taking in her long hair, pretty face, and flannel. “Staying for the show?”

“Yeah of course. You?” As she asked this, she realized who he was. Jerry Cantrell, founder of Alice in Chains. She had only seen him on TV before now, and had grown used to how he looks middle-aged. She felt her face grow hot and stammered. “Well, of course you are, sorry - I’m flustered.”

“No worries,” he said again with a bigger smile this time. “You know Alice in Chains?”

He said this like there are people who don’t. “Of course! I love…” She trailed off, trying not to mention a song that hadn’t been written yet. Quick, which year was Dirt released? She wondered. She would have killed for her iPhone and Google at this moment. “I love Would?” she tried to recover, hoping she played it safe enough.

“Far out, thanks, I wrote that one.”

I knew that, she thought. “Awesome!” She knew she was blushing, recalling time spent watching Alice in Chains music videos and their MTV Unplugged session, always thinking that Jerry Cantrell was a blonde god, far superior in sex appeal to Layne Staley to her. She paused, at a loss for words, and hoped the silence didn’t become too uncomfortable.

“Well hey, I’ve got to get going, but cheer for us okay?” Cantrell asked, now watching her face with interest, having forgiven her for her inattention.

“Of course! Can’t wait. It was so nice to meet you,” she said, fangirling a little bit now that she was starting to get her bearings back.

“That’s not right is it? You know who I am but I don’t know your name,” he teased, moving a little closer so that they can hear each other better. She glanced at his chest, noticing it bare under an open vest. He was insanely hot. She envisioned running her hands along his chest and blushed. 

“I’m Grier Collins,” she stammered and smiled nervously, though charmingly she hoped. She ran a hand through her hair, hoping to give it a little body. 

“Grier, that’s a unique name. I won’t forget that. Great meeting you Grier,” he pauses. "We’ll be at Journeys after the show,” raising his eyebrows slightly in an invitation. He then gave her a small wave and jogs to the VIP entrance to the stage to tune-up before his set.

She is trembling a little, heart and mind racing. I can’t believe that just happened. She rushed to tell Lola about the exchange and how they most definitely needed to go to Journeys after the show. She also needed to make sure they secured a spot near the stage to witness this moment in time, at the top of her mental nineties bucket list.   
Chapter # - AIC & Journeys

Lola was excited for Grier, but not as ecstatic as she expected her to be. She was agreeable to both crowding toward the front of the general admission section with her and heading to Journeys afterward though. She reminded herself that Alice in Chains wasn't huge yet, though the Van Halen crowd at Portland Veterans Memorial Coliseum had seemed pretty into them, knowing a lot of their setlist. Grier had fun road tripping to Oregon for the show with Lola and a couple of their friends, though she wasn’t much of a Van Halen fan. 

They moved their way to the pit, sneaking between groupies and other grunge heads, and Grier nearly choked from the cloud of smoke in the air, something she still could not get used to. She had asked a guy to put out a cigarette in the cafe when covering a shift for Lola (apparently this Grier had worked there when she was in college at U Dub) a couple days prior and he had looked at her like she was crazy, but complied. She had nodded, satisfied, then went back to the hostess's stand and saw a pile of glass ashtrays in the cubby underneath and shook her head. 

Some things were easy to adjust to - the laid back lifestyle was thrilling, the prices and economy were amazing; Lola could pay her bills easily with her tips from waitressing, Grier was practically rich as an editor, and the band boys were gorgeous. She had always thought she should have experienced her early twenties in the era of Seattle grunge for the music and the men - so her type. Other things she could not keep straight were the technology, or lack thereof, the big, stiff hair which was not her thing, and scaling down her productive nature in an effort to blend in to lazy, sleepy Seattle which liked to nap all day and party all night. 

It was a Friday night - no work for either of them tomorrow, and Grier had quickly become accustomed to and fond of their Saturday morning routine: sleep in, venture out for a walk to get coffee and pastries, stroll back to their apartment while debating the merits of local bands and their lead singers, and order Chinese or Thai takeout for lunch. Then they would talk and watch MTV til it was time to work on getting ready for the next round of shows. It was a routine Grier had fallen in love with instantly after years of being a hyper-productive perfectionist, as well as with Lola's carefree and upbeat attitude. They planned to drive back in the morning, which would throw a wrench in their routine, but she was excited nonetheless. They were staying on couches with mutual friends that night. 

As much as she had become taken with her nineties roommate, she missed Kamilah and Peach all the time. She had been missing Oliver a little too, but mostly it was having a man in general, not him specifically. This thought crossed her mind at the same time Jerry Cantrell walked onstage to start tuning his guitar, with the rest of the band, including the infamous Layne Staley, not far behind. Grier was eager to see Layne, yet another Seattle grunge frontman who battled with drugs and his demons and lost, way too young. She saw him and Jerry goofing around, bumping into each other and laughing a little, and it made her smile. This is incredible, she thought. Grier had spent a lot of time watching old nineties music videos, interviews, concert takes, and the like over her lifetime, but she had never witnessed something as authentic as this exchange, and being there in person made it even more special. 

This show and the others she had been to recently, were so unlike the ones she had been to in the 2010s - Drake and Migos at Chicago's United Center with a friend from her flybarre class. Fun and high energy, but impersonal and hyper-rehearsed. A lot of theatrics and completely smooth vocals. 

Despite the routine that she had developed with Lola and the amount of bands she had seen in her time in the nineties, she was still blown away by Alice in Chains. They played a lot of songs she knew, classics to her. It was raw, exciting, and revolutionary for the time. It was also hot and sweaty at the venue. A little smelly. The nineties crowd around her and their obvious enjoyment made it all the better for her. She didn't have to be from the future to know they were going places. She kept her focus on Jerry throughout, though occasionally forcing herself to take in the rest of the show too. She didn't have to try too hard to admire Layne Staley's unique vocals and killer presence. But Jerry was the star to her. He was a natural on guitar, and she wished he sang lead a little more. She loved his voice and always had. He was clearly in his element and passionate about his music. 

Passion was attractive to her. Graham hadn't been too passionate. Practical, logical, clear-headed. Sure, those were admirable qualities in a person and partner, but they weren't exciting. Especially for someone in her early twenties who was far from ready to settle down. She had so much life left to live, and was making a great start at that here and now. 

After the show, a sweaty Grier and hyper Lola made their way to the exit, with a pit stop at the restrooms (insanely long line, of course). Lola touched up her makeup and Grier thought she would scream if one more minute stood between her and Journeys. Fortunately, Lola was ready to get there too. They walked quickly to their destination, Lola knowing where it was fortunately, the dimly lit bar cozy and set up for reclining and unwinding. The lounge area was reminiscent of the Friends Central Perk set. They each grabbed a rum and high-fructose-corn-syrup Coke to quench their thirst after the sweaty pit. Once they had their beverages, Grier tried to take a deep breath to calm herself down. They sat on one of the cozy, threadbare couches and listened to the ever-present grunge music while chatting excitedly.

"My heart is about to beat out of my chest," Grier admitted, a little embarrassed.

"They were great and I know they're getting big, but I don't know why you care so much! Mookie Blaylock was just as good and you weren't this crazy when we had the chance to hang out with them. I thought for sure you would be all about Eddie Vedder and his long hair," Lola replied. "And more pumped for Soundgarden in two weeks too."

Grier had been excited to meet them, but she didn't love Pearl Jam like she loved Alice in Chains, and Eddie Vedder wasn't the heartthrob to her that Jerry Cantrell was, though many people would strongly disagree. "It just wasn't the same! That long blonde hair, the way he plays the guitar, he just seems so unassuming," she struggled to explain. "And I've never been that into Soundgarden," she slipped. 

"Yeah, because they've been around forever right?" Lola was getting used to her weird comments. "Whatever you say, keep wiggin out then. I mean, Cantrell is hot, don’t get me wrong, but Layne is way hotter."

Grier rolled her eyes dramatically and shook her head, exasperated, making Lola smirk. 

Grier thought her nineties mission would be complete if she could see Nirvana perform, but they were on tour across the country this fall. If she was here beyond that, she didn't know what life would look like once fall turned into winter. It made her nervous. She worried that Kamilah would have filed a missing-person's report on her, Peach was broken-hearted, and that she was long since fired from Geller Publishing. She was sure her parents were worried too once Kamilah had reached out. Well, if I never go back it won't really matter, I guess.

Lola spotted some of the friends they had spent time with last weekend, also making the pilgrimage to Portland for the show. Grier thought it was Sam and Tony, but wouldn't have addressed them by name yet. Lola waved them over. Grier was happy for the distraction and to have the appearance that they weren't waiting there specifically for the band, but she was worried that they would have nowhere to sit if they wanted to be around them, as Sam and Tony took up the armchairs on either side of the couch, and there was just a little love seat left. They chatted and asked about the show, having come from a different one. 

Grier, after watching with interest every time the door opened, had nearly given up an hour later when the door swung open and she recognized the bassist and drummer come in, though she couldn't remember what their names were, with Layne and Jerry shortly after.

They sauntered over to the bar, Jerry perfectly disheveled from the show, though she knew that was the grunge style in general, and chatted with the bartender and some others nearby. It had filled up in the past hour with people coming from other shows or bars to this one. 

She was mid-conversation with Sam, the girl of Sam and Tony, about her experience in Peace Corps Uganda the year before. Sam was cool and earthy, and a true humanitarian. Sam had brown hair, naturally wavy, and didn’t wear makeup or seem to care about her looks much at all. Grier had warmed to her quickly. Sam noticed she was distracted by the band at the bar and told her she should go say hi. It wasn't Grier's style to pursue a man, though she was a feminist in many regards. She was being a little shy even though she had told herself to live it up while she was here, with no real responsibilities. She wasn't feeling courageous enough though to bother one of her musical idols while he was chatting with friends after a show. He probably had forgotten he had mentioned coming here to the girl who plowed into him earlier this evening. 

She had resigned herself to heading back to their friends’ house shortly, bummed, and was talking with Lola about she was getting tired when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

"Grier," he said, with a smile. 

"Hi," she answered, with a huge smile in response. She couldn't think of anything more clever and knew she seemed eager but was too happy to care. She was pleased he had approached her, and also remembered her name like he said he would. 

"You made it," he said with pleasure. "What did you think of the show?"

"I loved it - it was perfect. You guys sounded great together, and the energy was incredible," she gushed. She had so many more comments and reflections, but was nervous and didn't want to let on how big of a fan she was at this point - she didn't want to be seen as a groupie. There had been plenty of those at the show, she had noticed. She had overheard two fairly attractive girls, younger than her, debating who was hotter between Layne and Jerry at the show, and one was very pro-Jerry. She had felt a stab of jealousy at their youth and authentic nineties-ness. 

He gave her another big smile, pushing his hair behind his ear. "Mind if I sit?" 

Grier shook her head, "no, of course not." She wondered where he would find room though. He surprised her by squeezing in between her and Lola, who gave him a smile and said hey. She introduced him to her, Sam, and her friend who had recently joined them and taken Tony's seat when he had went back to the bar area to play pool with some acquaintances. She was hyper-aware of their arms touching each other in the too-tight space, and felt herself getting flustered again.

Jerry's interest in Grier became evident to everyone around them except for Grier, who was too starstruck to notice, over the next hour or so, garnering some light teasing by his bandmates and a couple other buddies, who she met shortly after he sat down. Layne, who was friendly enough, but kept to himself and his beverage, Mike (bass), and Sean (drums), who quickly struck up conversations with Lola, Sam, Sam's friend, then Tony when he realized who had come over to sit with them. Jerry responded to questions from this crew amicably enough, joking a little, but made no attempt to sustain a group conversation. He was focused on her. 

While talking, she tried not to fixate on his mouth, but it was hard. She would love to experience kissing him. After talking with him for some time, she looked up to ask Lola something about their plans for the next night, and noticed that she and Jerry were the only ones remaining in the lounge area. She blushed. Jerry followed her train of thought. "Looks like we ran everyone off, didn't we?" he winked and nudged her playfully. 

Her blush deepened and she admired his broad smile. "I guess we did." She felt a pang at keeping him from the rest of the band, and enjoying his downtime with them as well as his other friends and fans. She had felt like a journalist like Kamilah. 

He stood and stretched, his shirt exposing his toned, slender torso, and she felt a pit in her stomach. She wasn't ready for him to leave, but knew that she would always remember the night and replay it in her head. They had discussed the band's music and lifestyle, invaluable information to her, but he had also spent a lot of time asking her about what she did, where she was from, and what her interests and goals were. She realized belatedly how much attention he had given her, and she was surprised to find that he wasn't an egomaniac, being en route to massive fame and fortune, and having been told how fabulous he was for the past couple of years already. Though attentive and charismatic, he was also a 25 year old guy spending all of his time with his band and other musicians, and had made some comments about how goofy they were together, despite their metal music. 

She glanced at her wristwatch, seeing that it was the latest she had been out since early sophomore year of college, the ever-responsible Grier felt a jolt of surprise. She finished the bitter coffee Jerry had bought for her and set the mug on the table with their other empty glasses, looking up at him and trying to hide her disappointment that perhaps the best night of her life had come to an end. 

He held out his hand to her and pulled her up with him. “M’lady,” he said exaggeratedly. She felt sparks as soon as their hands met. "Ready to go?"

She looked at him dumbly. "Go where?"

 

“I’ll get you back to your friend’s house, you said they’re home, right? It’s not that far of a walk from here.”

"I should probably wait for Lola, we usually make sure the other gets home. It’s a whole thing," she said, unsure and caught off guard. That's not the direction she saw this taking. “And don’t you want to hang out with the band?”

"She's still playing pool with our friends. Check with her and see if she's ready to go." She felt a rush at the casual way he referred to each of their friend groups as a single entity. “Nah, I’m with those assholes all the time,” he shrugged, laughing. “I’m ready to crash.”

Grier, unreasonably nervous that he would vanish in thin air if she let him out of her sight, made her way back to the pool tables and saw Lola looking more alert than ever. How does she have this energy? Must be all the espresso she gets into at work. She was picturing the episode of Friends she and Lola had watched the night before where Chandler drank cup after cup of espresso while attempting to break up with Janice. "Hey, Jerry wants to walk me back, do you want to come with us?"

"Score!" she replied with a high five. "No I'm going to let you handle this one on your own, chica. Sam will walk with me, think we’re going to hang out a while."

Grier blushed. "It's not like that! But okay, if you're sure..." She spotted Layne with a girl in the corner, looking out of it. She noticed Jerry didn't seem to feel the need to tell his friends that he was leaving, but Sean came up and tapped her on the back then pulled her aside . 

"Be nice to him. He likes you," he informed her conspiratorially. 

She looked at him to see if he was pulling her leg. She knew he had been nice to her, but he hadn't seemed overly flirty. She assumed she had flattered him by being so interested in the band he had formed and their music. His expression was serious, even a little nervous. "I've just been bugging him with questions about you guys, I love your music," she clarified, thinking he had it all wrong. "He was just being polite." 

"No way, Jose. He would never sit and talk with a fan for that long, let alone offer to walk them home. He doesn’t pay too much attention to groupies, that's Layne's domain," he explained. "I'm not trying to give you more info than you need, but I thought you should know in case you aren't interested. He has had hearts in his eyes since he met you today."

Grier pondered this. "But you haven't even spoken to him since he's been talking to me." 

"What do you mean? He told me before we warmed up earlier. He said, and I quote, 'I think I just fell in love, man'. I asked him what he meant and he said that the most beautiful brunette he had ever seen slammed into him in the hallway, then he rubbed his shoulder and claimed that 'love hurts'. He had a goofy smile on his face all night and rushed us to pack up our equipment so he could get here, hoping you would show."

She was astonished. She couldn't believe that he ran to tell his band about meeting her like she had rushed to tell Lola. Her reasons, though odd, were justifiable. You know, the classic time travel to meet your childhood idol story. But why was he so taken with her? She knew she was attractive, but she was sure he was approached by girls all the time, one of the advantages (or disadvantages, depending on your view or the particular female) of being a rock star. She glanced behind her, hoping he hadn't given up on her and was still waiting, and saw he was talking with a friend near the lounge area. He looked over and caught her eye and smiled. She smiled back and thought about her anxiousness in the first hour after she and Lola had arrived here, and her nerves after he had arrived and not addressed her right away. "Wait, but he didn't even say anything to me when he got here?" 

"Trying to play it cool. He was so relieved you were here. He made us all come over and check you out for a minute to see how hot you were. We were ripping on him for it but he didn't care. He waited five minutes."

Grier's mind was spinning. She had been in such a solid relationship with Oliver for so long that she didn't even remember what it was like to be hit on. She was also so out of her element in the nineties, and, believe it or not, flirting in the nineties was a little more subtle than in the 2010s. More innocent and less technology involved. Sure, she had experienced some unwanted attention since her time travel three weeks prior, but had brushed it off. This was the first time she had reciprocated the feelings. "Okay, thank you for telling me...I didn't realize."

"If you tell him I told you I'll be mad - you don't want to split up A.I.C. do you?" he asked, jokingly. 

"Of course not!"

"And don't hurt him. If you're not into it let him down nicely. He's had a rough few years. Lost some pretty important people."

"You don't have to worry about that. Trust me, I was more excited to meet him, and he has exceeded my expectations." Grier didn't know what had happened to him recently, but she had noticed a darkness behind his eyes and in his mood at certain points in their conversation. 

Grier headed back to Jerry with a new level of excitement. She looked at him differently, and in doing so, saw the signs. He grinned every time their eyes met, and saw he blushed when she asked him if he was ready to go. It gave her a new sense of confidence, as she was no longer afraid of keeping him from his friends now that she knew his purpose in coming there was to be with her. He held the door for her and she grabbed his arm once they made it out into the chilly night air. 

The affection must have encouraged him as well, because he stopped for a moment and looked at her with a serious expression on his face, searching hers. She felt like he was seeing through her, and she was worried he could tell she was from the future. She was desperate for him to not see anything that would discourage his interest, though she felt guilty since she’d just got out of years of being tied down with Oliver. He must have been content with what he saw, because they headed, hand-in-hand, to her friends’ house, barely noticing the cold.

They were mostly quiet on the walk. She was wondering what would happen when they arrived and enjoying the feel of her hand in his. 

Ten to fifteen minutes later, they were outside of her friends’ house, and she stopped, still holding his hand. She turned to face him, heart beating wildly. “Well....this is me,” she said awkwardly.

He nodded, clearing his throat. He had her write down her number on his hand at the bar, and she noticed it when she looked down at her shoes. 

“Well -” they said at the same time.

He stepped closer to her and kissed her firmly after looking her in the eye for a moment. It was over quickly - too quickly, leaving her wanting more. He pulled back and told her goodnight, waiting for her to make it into the house. She stood inside the door for a moment, happy with how the night went, thrilled with meeting him at all, not to mention spending time with him romantically, but wondered if she should be worried that he didn’t try to do more. What if she never saw him again? She wasn’t satisfied with how it ended if that was going to be it. 

Chapter # - Saturday

Grier had woken up at 10:00 AM (oh, the luxury) and had laid for a bit, dozing, until she remembered how the night before had ended and sat up on her friends’ couch, wide awake. The rest of the house appeared to still be sleeping.

She recapped. She had seen Van Halen with Lo, literally collided with the gorgeous creator of Alice in Chains, watched their set, and had spent the evening with Jerry MF Cantrell. He had walked her back like a gentleman, given her a soft but sure kiss, and had hailed a taxi to where he was staying with the band. 

She got up, saved the shower for later, and threw on a cropped sweatshirt and soft leggings with a bomber jacket on top and ran out to grab coffee, remembering passing a spot nearby the day before, to clear her head. She walked there slowly, despite the chill, thinking hard. While she was beyond ecstatic about her night, and knew that it may never again be topped, she was also a little uneasy. She was unsure about starting a relationship, no matter how casual, with someone from the past, and a notable someone at that. What if he doesn't call? What if he does? How would that change history? What would be the repercussions? What if it ends badly? What if it doesn't end? The way she had felt yesterday and the way she had felt when she woke up and remembered was unlike she had felt with anyone before. She was old enough to know that was rare, no matter the decade. She wasn't the type to always believe everything happens for a reason, but she did think she had time traveled for a purpose. Whether it was to change her perspective on her real life or to just live out a fun fantasy and satiate her nineties craving, she wasn't sure. 

She waited at a small table for coffees and danishes and, without a cell phone to use to pass the time, she grabbed a newspaper from the table left by the previous customer. She glanced through, still shocked by the date, Saturday, November 16, 1991, every time she saw it, and looked around to notice other people doing what she was doing or chatting with friend or two on this slow morning. She noticed she didn't stand out in appearance from them - maybe her brows were thicker and more manicured than others - definitely a 2016 trend - and she was a little more fit, a physical display of her productive nature, but overall she blended in. It relieved her. She didn't want to be weird in any decade, and she felt she carried around a blinking I'm from the future! billboard on her forehead. The barista called out her order and she grabbed it and headed back to the apartment, balancing the coffees. Everyone except Lola was up when she got back and she handed out the coffees and pastries, and they all recapped their nights. Everyone was interested in her encounter with the hot lead guitarist from Alice in Chains, and she blushed, loving talking and thinking about it. She sipped her coffee while everyone excitedly talked about Van Halen, and reflected on her time here so far.   
It was everything she could ever want, and now that she was comfortable (ish) with her living situation, job, and a couple of friends, she didn't feel quite so homesick. She of course missed Peach and Kamilah, not necessarily in that order, but didn't miss her family much. They lived a few hours from Indianapolis and she typically only saw them around the holidays and talked with them via FaceTime or email every couple of weeks. Her parents had been a little older when they had her and were fully enjoying their empty nest, traveling and renovating her room into a home office the second she moved away to college. They loved her and she loved them of course, but their lives didn't hinge on the others' every move like some families did. She had gathered that her relationship with her family in the nineties was similar judging by comments from Lola and letters she found in her room. She wondered if her parents were the same people as her real parents, and assumed if she were here long enough she would find out. 

Lola rolled in around 11:30, blonde hair a wild mess, and gratefully accepted the lukewarm coffee and pastry that Grier had gotten her. They lounged around in comfortable silence, everyone else showering or making food, til Lola had finished eating. 

"So..." Lola asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Nothing happened!" Grier said. "He just kissed me and told me goodnight. He was a gentleman." She knew she was blushing. She remembered how he’d looked at her again and pulled her to him by her waist, making her heart race. He’d kissed her softly, but she could remember how warm his lips were on hers, and how it had made her feel. Her stomach fluttered, thinking about it. 

"Ooo la la," she winked.

"How was the rest of your night? You guys were out late huh?"

"Yeah, it was late. It was fun. I liked the band and everything. I guess we'll be seeing them again, right?" 

"I don't want to assume...but yes I think so," Grier said, hopeful. She wondered if she would hear from Jerry today or if he would wait the requisite three days popular in this decade. Or maybe she wouldn't hear from him at all. He was a musician - they were not known to be super organized or reliable. She had been a little surprised he hadn’t tried to get her to come back to where he was staying once she knew he was interested, but she figured it was a good thing. 

Grier finally got out of her chair after mulling over some of the details of the night before with Lola and planning for a lower key evening, getting their stuff loaded in the car and saying bye to their friends. Lola had a short shift at Elliott Bay to get back for. The ride back was quiet as she and Lola slept most of the way and let Bill drive. 

Getting back to misty Seattle, Grier said bye to her friends, dropped off her stuff, and changed into what qualified as running clothes in the nineties. Read: lots of spandex, but not the cute, soft, Lululemon kind. She threw on her clunky, horrific-looking running shoes, sick of being cooped up in the car for hours, and ran a few miles around the neighborhood, missing her iPod and SmartWatch. She wasn't much of a runner, but Jazzercise and spinning weren't her thing either, and she had grown tired of practicing Pilates and yoga in her room. She took in the area and relished it. It was what she wanted it to be in every way. Seattle in the 2010s could not compare, at least not on the trip she had taken a few years prior over spring break. 

She walked down her street, letting her muscles cool down, then went back to the apartment, showered, and picked up a little while her long hair air-dried. Cleaning was not Lola's forte. While Grier was trying to be more laid back, she had a hard time thinking clearly when things were a mess. She read a little til Lola got home and changed, and made herself a sandwich that the 2016 Grier would have been satisfied with as well - sautéed veggies and some lettuce and tomato on toasted wheat. She wore a pair of high waisted jeans, showing off her long legs, and floral off-the-shoulder crop top under a faux leather jacket with white Keds, hair teased and pulled half back, and a glossy pink lip. She felt ridiculous, but Lola assured her it was super cute, a la Kelly Kapowski. She said she looked a lot like her then with her blue eyes and dark complexion from the Turkish and Welsh descent of her family. That was one comparison Grier hadn't heard prior to time traveling. 

Lola and Grier chatted on the way to the Vogue and Grier felt happy and relaxed. They mingled with friends before the show started and Grier enjoyed Mother Love Bone immensely, and was sad for them that they never "made it". Instead of being groupies afterward, they headed for the apartment and popped some popcorn and talked with some of their friends who had come back with them. They played a few games of Uno and Nintendo together. 

Grier went to bed at a reasonable time, catching up from the night before, and reflected on the day. She realized then that Jerry hadn't called, or if he had he hadn't left a message on the machine. She missed her iPhone then, but thought it may be better all-around if he didn't call, even though the thought was disappointing.   
Chapter # - Flowers Tuesday, 9/14

Grier, having caught on to her job fairly quickly, with, fortunately, only a few lapses, was hard at work on the Tuesday after the Alice in Chains show. She had been waiting for the opportunity to apply her degree, and though she had to adapt to the times, they still thought she had some innovative ideas. The technology was hilarious on one hand, and frustrating on the other. She was reading a manuscript and making editing notes and generally enjoying herself, having forgotten she was wearing an actual suit (so professional, so nineties) when her assistant poked her head in. 

"Miss Collins, sorry to bother you, but you have a delivery from LaVassar Florists," Suzy informed her. 

"Really? Thanks Suzy, send them in," Grier assumed they were from Donovan Brooks, thanking her for her work on his novel that was now being published. 

She nodded and motioned the delivery driver in. He had a bouquet of red roses, very retro. It seemed a little romantic to Grier for a business relationship, and made her uncomfortable, so after thanking the delivery man she grabbed the note with haste, wondering if this Grier had some admirer she didn’t know about. 

To the beautiful Grier

\- J.C. 

Short and sweet. She was surprised he sent them, and also that he, or the florist, spelled her name right. She hadn't heard from him since he dropped her off that Saturday night, and had by this point had chalked it up as a one-off. She was also extremely pleased. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders that she didn't even know she was carrying around. It threw her off that she cared so much, though she had always been a little boy-crazy. 

She eventually got back to work after mulling over the roses a bit more and was happy to have a message on her answering machine when she made it home. Lola was napping on the couch after an early morning at the cafe, and Grier picked up the phone to listen to it so she didn't wake her. She hoped it wasn't a telemarketer or one of Lo's many admirers. 

Alas, it was him. "Hey Grier, it's Jerry. We are rehearsing at the Music Bank around 7:00 tonight, want to come by? We could go eat after. Hope to see you."

Grier flushed, excited. She had a snack - yogurt, full of sugar and made from cow’s milk - and mentally picked out her outfit for the night. It took all of her restraint not to wake Lola to tell her the news. 

She forced herself to get some work done at home, never her strong suit on a normal day, and had a hard time concentrating. It would make her morning a little lighter tomorrow though. She was hoping and not hoping at the same time that it would be a late night for a Tuesday.  
Chapter # - Rehearsal

Grier had let Lola dress her, for better or worse, when Lola had disapproved of the sensible outfit Grier had picked. Grier wasn't typically a trendy dresser, preferring timeless, tailored pieces and stayed fairly covered up by 2016 standards, when short high-waisted shorts and microscopic crop tops were the uniform for a female in her early twenties for occasions such as these. 

Lola dressed differently. She was on-trend (for the times) and wasn't afraid of wearing something that would garner a lot of attention. Grier ended up compromising with her and wore some tight, high-waisted light-washed jeans, Birkenstock mules, and a tight, cropped navy blue shell, showing off her abs, which were sure to disappear with this awful diet she was consuming. She had tried to give her hair some volume with some hairspray and teasing, pulled it into a cute ponytail and put on some lipstick. She was ready to go. 

Lola and Grier, arm-in-arm, made their way to the garage, and Grier could hardly contain her excitement at seeing Jerry Cantrell again.

Walking into the Music Bank, Grier's nerves got the best of her and her stomach fluttered. She glanced around, trying to play it cool, and envied Lola's ability to always be herself and comfortable, no matter the situation. 

She saw Jerry before he saw her. She loved his long blonde hair, which seemed to always be perfectly tousled, and she blushed when she saw he was shirtless again and already a little sweaty underneath a patterned vest that had been left unbuttoned, with destroyed denim jeans and combat boots. He was completely and totally gorgeous. She had always admired tall, thin, blonde men, especially with long hair she realized, thinking back through her past crushes, although Graham was none of those things. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She felt confident that she looked good, especially compared with the flannel and Doc Martens she had worn the night they met. 

Lola shoved her toward him playfully, making her trip a little, and she felt her face heat up. 

"Grier! You made it," Jerry lumbered over to her and wrapped his lanky, toned arms around her, pulling her close. She enjoyed every second, trying to capture it in her mind to think about later, and was disappointed when it was over. “You look amazing,” he said, eyes widening at her fitted, girlier clothes, showing off her body. 

"Thanks. I got your message this evening. And your flowers at work. Thank you for those," she smiled, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt. 

He leaned close, lightly touching her jaw, and kissed her on the lips in front of the band, the groupies, her roommate, and everyone else who happened to be there. She heard a whistle come from somewhere behind her and her blush deepened. "I'm glad. Want to hang out while we run through some songs for this weekend?" He asked, acting as if it may inconvenience her to listen to one of her favorite bands in such an intimate and informal setting. He was passionate and it was infectious. This was a man who loved life and was so excited about his band. 

"We would love to. Thank you for inviting me."

He squeezed her hand and gave her a broad smile in return, then jogged back over to the band and equipment, and she admired his body as he went. They ran through a lot of songs she knew, though sometimes the words or music were a little different, and some she didn't and wished she had her phone to record it. Fans on YouTube would die for this. Lola did get a couple of Polaroids of them, and one with Grier and Jerry toward the end of the night. Lola noticed Chris Cornell dropped by after they had been there a while. She was ecstatic. She had found out from Jerry the night they met that he had lived with him and his wife and Alice in Chains’ manager, Susan Silver, for a few weeks at the beginning of this year. He had been homeless in the early '90s and lived for some time at the house of Pearl Jam's manager Kelly Curtis. While living in the basement of Curtis' house, Cantrell was roommates with Eddie Vedder. He told her he wrote the song "Rooster" at the Cornells' house.

Sean came over during a break and gave her a high five, chatting with her about the rehearsal and about their plans for the night. He said that she and Lola would have to come out with them to the bars soon. She said that would be fun. She appreciated his friendliness, making her feel much more comfortable. She also liked how goofy they were together, despite the success they were having as a band and their serious music. 

Once they wrapped up, a sweaty Jerry asked Lola if he could borrow Grier for dinner. Jerry and Grier went to a diner nearby and ordered milkshakes and fries, and a burger for him. Grier missed the days of a veggie burger, at minimum, being on the menu in every major city. Jerry, a carnivore and a hunter, was fascinated by her lifestyle and asked her all about it. She was used to the common questions regarding it but knew that in the nineties, it was weird. Only the crunchy granola, no makeup girls were vegetarian here. 

As they sipped their shakes - Grier wishing for soy milk but enjoying it nonetheless - Jerry slipped his hand into hers and they sat comfortably, discussing the rehearsal and the band's upcoming shows and studio time. Grier was amazed. She had never spent much time around musicians, despite her love of music and the many concerts she had attended over her lifetime, especially one as successful as this. Alice in Chains was well-known now, but she had to keep reminding herself that they had no idea how famous they were going to become, how rich they would be or the fate of their beloved lead singer. It was a trip. 

As they paid the bill (chivalry was still alive in the nineties - he laughed her off when she tried to pay), Jerry turned the conversation to her. Grier would have preferred to continue to discuss the band, not knowing how much of herself to share in case she slipped on any details from the future and ruined everything. 

They climbed in his nondescript, messy Explorer, him having moved his guitar from its standard spot in the passenger seat to the backseat for her (of course, a musician, she thought), and he drove her home. Pulling into the parking area for her apartment, Grier thanked and kissed him, and paused, wondering if she should invite him in when he stopped her. 

"Hey, I like you. I want you to know that. I don't want to be a buzzkill and talk about this the second time we hang out, but I needed to tell you." He said this in his rambling, casual way, but couldn't make eye contact with her. 

She smiled and reached for his hand. "Hey, I like you too," she said, mirroring his words. "Had to wait three days to call though, huh?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes and grinned. "I've been trying to chill but there's something about you..." He trailed off.

"Yeah, you too," she said honestly. It wasn't just that he was gorgeous or a famous musician whom she had admired for years, though that did help. The fact that he was the antithesis of Graham was part of it. He was so nineties. His clothes, his world view, his music, his way of courting her. It was all the appeal of Jordan Catalano without the negatives of playing hard to get and being a self-centered jerk. She was smitten. 

"Well, now that we've figured that out..." He kissed her again more deeply and said he would see her soon. 

She climbed out of the car, flushed, and noted that he waited until she was safely inside the apartment before pulling out and heading back to his perfect Seattle grunge life. She wondered what he was looking for in someone as responsible and professional as Grier. She had tried to be more relaxed in this decade, but she was still herself for the most part. Lola was asleep already, which was unlike her, but she knew she had an early shift the next morning. 

Grier grabbed a can of Pringles (no readily available healthy snack food! she bemoaned to herself) and plopped down onto the couch, switching on her standard "classic" MTV (at this time, brand-new and so relevant). 

Grier reflected on the evening, yet another that she knew she would never forget. She realized she had never felt more content as an adult, maybe since her pre-teen years. She felt she was exactly where she was supposed to be, with who she was supposed to be with and having the experiences she needed to. It alarmed her that she should feel so comfortable when she had time traveled like a sci-fi lunatic and was trying desperately to fit in so no one would uncover the truth of her existence and her knowledge of the future. But there it was, just the same. Sure, she missed things from 2016, but in her experience with travel, in general, you always missed something from home even if you were enjoying yourself fully. She didn't feel homesick though, because her apartment and life here already felt like home. She stopped, mid-Pringle, as the thought occurred to her - what if I never go back? It made her heart beat a little faster, but it didn't sound so awful. She had thought many times that if she truly wanted or needed to go back, she would go in her sleep, but she honestly had no idea. She pondered these ideas a while, with the Smells Like Teen Spirit video on in the background, then eventually got ready for bed. Jerry and his easy, crooked smile were her last thoughts before sleep overtook her.

 

Chapter # - 

It was mid-afternoon the next day before she heard from him. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and looked, startled, at the tall blonde man holding a large bag outside of her office door, so out of place in this professional environment, a moment before he went to knock. 

His spontaneity was so unlike Grier (who was a major planner), so it surprised her how thrilled she was. She didn't realize how much she missed him, or maybe how much she genuinely liked him, until that moment. Surprising them both, she rushed over to give him a huge hug. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, beaming.

"Me too, I probably should have called but I got carried away making this and didn't think about it. Do you have a few minutes to eat? " he asked, indicating to the bustle in the lobby.

“Sure, thank you.”

He pulled out various haphazard containers, clearly put together with a lot of thought, and it made her happy. They ate their vegetarian sandwiches and Kraft macaroni and cheese with juice boxes and she couldn’t have liked him anymore at that moment than she did. The innocence of it tugged at her heart. 

Suzy stopped by to give her a memo and was shocked to see him in her office. Grier introduced them and she couldn’t tell if Suzy knew who he was or was just surprised to see Grier with him. Jerry teased her about having an assistant, saying that her job was so glamorous compared to his. 

When they were done, he said he would get out of her way so she could work but asked if they could get together for a movie tonight at her place. She agreed, smiling at the way he made it sound so casual, imagining his ulterior motive. She made a mental note to call Lola and let her know so she could give them some privacy if possible.

He nodded, happy with that, and lingered for a minute, gathering up his thoughts. “I got out of a pretty fucked up two year off and on relationship a few months back. It was unhealthy for us to be together. I couldn’t keep it in my pants. I know that’s not an attractive thing for me to tell you about myself, but I probably should.”

She was surprised. She hadn’t heard about him ever having a serious girlfriend, though she had read that in the early days, the band lived in poverty, obsessed with getting pussy and who they were fucking. She wasn’t naive, she knew that there was a lot going on with them that she wouldn’t be okay with if it were her “real” life, and she appreciated him telling her. She had no interest in doing drugs or being with someone who was having sex with other people, but she didn’t take all of this as seriously as she would have if it were 2016. She nodded, “I’m glad you told me. What are you thinking about this?” She indicated between the two of them.

“I’m thinking that life is crazy and this maybe isn’t the best time to start something, but I’d like to see where it can go with you.” 

She blushed, “well okay then...”

“What do you think?”

“I agree. I got out of a long, boring relationship recently and want to have fun. I love how passionate you are and creative...and good-looking,” she laughed. 

He laughed. “Thanks. I will try to be the best I can be for you. I know you deserve it and don’t want to be jerked around,” he pulled her to him and kissed her, running his hands through her hair. 

“Thank you for talking about it with me,” she hadn’t needed or expected it yet, but it showed that he had put thought into their relationship and decided it should be said. 

He kissed her again and told her he’d see her soon and lumbered to the door, her watching him walk away thoughtfully. She honestly thought they may have sex a few times and that would be it, looking forward to that but not thinking about much beyond it. Of course, being the romantic she was, she wanted more, but she just wanted to enjoy her time here regardless of whether it worked out between them or not. For all she knew, she’d wake up or time travel back to the future today, so she wanted to live it up. Enjoy the music, the friendships, try to gain the experience at work that she wanted, and relish living the prime of her life in the nineties, which she had wanted to experience for so long. 

 

Chapter # - Movie Night

Lola was out with some friends and it was just going to be Jerry, Grier, some popcorn, and whatever VHS tape he had rented from Blockbuster. She smirked, thinking that in 2016 this night would be “Netflix and chill” instead. She was trying to play it tough, but she hadn’t been with anyone other than Graham in six years, and before that, her experience was pretty limited, just a couple boyfriends in high school. She knew the same wasn’t true for Jerry, which was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. She didn’t want to wear house clothes and be too casual or get dressed up and be uncomfortable for cuddling. So she settled for somewhere in the middle - missing her Lululemon leggings badly. She wore some well-worn jeans that fit well in all of the right places and an off-the-shoulder baby pink top of Lo’s.

She made some popcorn and tidied up around the apartment, readying herself for the night to come, wondering what would happen. She lit a candle, then blew it out, thinking it was over the top. 

When he knocked, she opened the door and a lump in her throat prevented her from speaking right away. He is so gorgeous, she thought. He smiled and kissed her and she moved aside to let him in. She cleared her throat and invited him to sit. She had to bend over to fiddle with the VCR to get the movie to play, and felt his eyes on her. Bending a little more, playing it up, she got it going. 

“Hey, anyone ever tell you that you have a great ass?” he asked, head cocked to one side. 

She stood up and looked at him frankly. “No, Cantrell, you’re the only one.” 

He smirked and nodded knowingly, then motioned her over to sit with him. 

They settled in to watch Tremors and cuddled under a soft blanket. 

After about half an hour of getting closer and closer to each other, Jerry pulled her to him and kissed her softly initially, then more urgently. He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, and ran his hands through her hair, then to her back, her waist. “Your body is incredible. You must work out, huh?” He asked. Exercise wasn’t huge in the 90s...or even the 2010s she supposed. 

She pulled back for a moment. “Yeah, I am pretty into it and nutrition. I’m a hyper-productive person in general...that’s just a part of it.”

He regarded her and said seriously, “you just described everything I’m not” and laughed. 

She smiled back. “What do you want with someone who is so different from you and your life anyway?” She teased, but there was a seriousness to the question as well. 

“Oh, I just want her for her body,” he laughed, kissing her and pinning her on the couch. Wrestling and flirting, they completely disregarded the movie and the remaining popcorn tipped over into their blanket. “Kidding,” he said, kissing her neck. 

He had her pants off quicker than she would have thought possible, and she rolled her eyes at all of the “experience” he must have acquired in this domain along with his fame. He was inside of her soon after, and their movements were frenzied, new to them both. A million thoughts ran through her head. She couldn’t believe this was happening, convinced until now that this must be some sort of dream or coma she was in. But the feelings were real, and her first time with Jerry Cantrell was perfect. The next two times were even better. 

They laid in the floor, surrounded by popcorn, her head on his chest, and talked for hours that night. When he got up to get something to drink in his boxers, she admired his slim, toned body and long blonde hair. He sang a couple of lines from “Them Bones” to himself as he did so, and she knew then she was in over her head. It was surreal. She had trouble reconciling this man with the one she had seen on TV and heard on the radio all her life. 

He spent the night with her and they stayed close all night, not wanting to let each other go. When he left the next morning, early to get to a radio show with the band, he kissed her and told her that he would see her soon and that he’d loved sleeping with her. 

She’d fallen back into a cozy sleep, contented, and was surprised that he was back before she woke up with coffee and bagels. They ate and watched the news together, cuddling and happy, and were sitting like that when Lola rolled in. 

“Oh hey lovebirds!” she plopped down next to them, looking from the messy living room to Grier, smirking.

Grier threw a pillow at her and Jerry laughed. They spent the rest of the morning lounging around, talking, and Grier noticed how well Jerry fit in there. He was comfortable and goofy, joking around. He had a great sense of humor and Lola became partial to him quickly. 

While Lola was talking on the phone with a friend later, she and Jerry started wrestling and were teasing each other. 

He had her pinned on the ground, blonde hair framing his face, smiling goofily, and she couldn’t move, no matter how much she struggled. “Get off of me!” she hissed, trying not to disturb Lola. 

“That’s not what you said last night, Collins,” he teased. “You took everything I wanted to do pretty well.”

She blushed, and struggled til she freed one hand and shoved him, “come on, let’s go back to bed,” she said, after grabbing some snacks. She winced, sore from last night’s exploits. 

“Are you trying to get laid again?” he asked, cocky now, grabbing her ass.

“Yeah right, I’m exhausted. I want to take a nap,” she said, laying on his skinny chest and looking up at him. 

“You’re sassy this morning, maybe I shouldn’t deprive you of sleep again?” he asked, eyebrow raised, cigarette in hand.

“You can’t handle it?” she responded. “Shut it, Cantrell, let me sleep.” She hugged and gave him multiple little kisses, being silly. 

He scoffed. “Okay okay, I surrender,” he played with her hair, both of them getting cozy and falling asleep soon after. 

She woke up before him and started cleaning up a little in the living room. She was dancing a little to A Tribe Called Quest on the radio and folding a blanket when he stumbled in, rubbing his eyes. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, voice scratchy, holding a cigarette between his teeth. 

“Oh, you don’t like rap?” she asked sweetly. 

“It’s not that, I just don’t know why you’re cleaning and dancing around when you have this hot piece of ass in your bed,” trying his best to look irresistible, throwing his hair behind his shoulder.

“Aww, you want my company. Cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break.”

“I would if you weren’t being so cocky.”

“I can be more than that if you want,” he retorted suggestively, grabbing his crotch.

“I put out one time and all of a sudden the romance is dead?” she asked, deadpan.

He laughed, “no...it’s just, you’re so fucking hot. Come back to bed. I’ll be easy.”

Grier was glad Lola had left the apartment sometime while they were napping. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Jerry, always tasting of alcohol and cigarettes, and he grabbed her ass and hoisted her up on his hips. She held on, grinding into him, and pulled at his hair a little. He groaned before pulling back. 

He sat her on the kitchen counter, putting her at the perfect height, and went down on her, helping her relax, before sliding into her gently. She moved with him, arching her back and placing her hands on the counter behind her to steady herself, thrusting her breasts out. The amount of time they had been together had made her a lot less self-conscious. He pushed in, pulling out fully each time, over and over, making her catch her breath. He leaned down, kissing her breasts and grabbing her hips, before moving faster, making them both cum soon after. She couldn’t believe how insatiable he was. 

As evening rolled around, Jerry went home to get ready for a show they were all going to together and said he’d pick them up in an hour. Grier was on cloud nine. She knew she hadn’t wanted a relationship after Graham for a while, but he was the complete opposite of Graham and the thought of her ending this with Jerry was laughable. She was smitten, and Lola declared, “that man is in LOVE,” elbowing her, as they got ready. She laughed, loving it, and Lola helped her dissect the evening and their relationship so far with her enthusiastically. Grier adored her. 

When Jerry arrived with Mike and Layne in the car, Sean meeting them there with his girlfriend, Melinda Starr, Mike’s sister. Grier was having a hair crisis and they all came in, Layne sprawling on the couch and Mike coming back to talk with her in the bathroom while Lola and Jerry talked about the band they were going to see. Grier finally settled on a loose braid and wore Jerry’s flannel from the night before - perfectly oversized, and left in her bed - over a sexy crop top, tight jeans, and Converses, and they headed out after taking shots of tequila for the road. On the way, Jerry pulled out some car beers and they were in the mood to party by the time they got there. Grier couldn’t remember ever having a more fun night in her life when she reflected on it the next day. 

 

Layne’s girlfriend Demri met him there, a stunning, vibrant woman, and she brought out the most fun version of him she’d seen yet, joking around and goofy. Grier took to her instantly, a little dazzled by her. She knew she wanted to be her friend. Lola liked her too but said she was wild. The band all seemed to like her well. This was the first time Grier had spent time with this entire crew outside of one of their shows or rehearsals and she felt a little self-conscious. This group, though probably used to Jerry’s flavor of the week now, were more than likely either comparing her to his ex-girlfriend, Courtney Clarke, or assumed she wouldn’t be hanging around long. Sean was clearly her biggest fan out of the group, having been friendly and tried to get to know her since the beginning, and was fortunately just as nice to her with Melinda in tow. They all joked around and the alcohol they’d had helped make the situation more enjoyable for all of them, though the band members and Demri were throwing them back faster than she could have imagined possible. Health-conscious Grier hardly drank in the present-day, preferring an occasional local craft brew or sulfate-free red wine, but this Grier spent a lot of times at shows and had been consuming a few beers or cocktails per week now. She kept waiting to see some difference in her body from all of the changes but wondered if the time travel made her immune to gaining weight or losing muscle tone. She didn’t really want to find out if she were wrong though. 

Beer in hand, Jerry pulled her close and danced with her exaggeratedly when the band came on, making her laugh. He dipped her low at the end and French kissed her. She blushed, knowing his friends were watching. 

Demri and Melinda pulled her aside at the bar a little later, under the guise of getting drinks, while they waited for the headliner to set up after it had become evident that Jerry was more interested than usual. 

Demri, throwing back a shot of Jameson, asked how serious things were. 

“Oh, not super serious, but we’ve talked about being together,” she said lamely. 

Melinda looked at her, mouth open. “Really? I mean, don’t get me wrong, Jerry is fantastic, but he’s not known for being monogamous. It was a huge issue with his ex if you haven’t heard. He felt suffocated by it and it drove her crazy.”

Grier stammered, “yes he told me about that.”

This time it was Demri’s turn to look surprised. “He TOLD you he cheated on her all the time?”

Grier nodded. 

Melinda and Demri looked at each other, disbelieving. 

“Well that’s great,” Melinda said after a moment. “Really. He’s the best. Just try not to expect too much from him and maybe he won’t let you down.” She sounded like a Gin Blossoms song, which she absently wondered if had been written yet. 

Grier nodded again, agreeing. “That’s the plan, just trying to have fun, but I do like him a lot,” she looked down, embarrassed to be so vulnerable with this group of established A.I.C. girlfriends. 

Demri smiled, starting to slur her words a little, “well he must like you a lot too. He was asking Sean what he thought about you the other night. It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

“Sean liked you instantly. He told me, ‘this one might be the real deal,’ and that you might be out of Cantrell’s league,” Melinda said with a wink. 

Grier laughed and they went back to join their men, Jerry instantly grabbing her hand and squeezing it. He raised his eyebrows at her, silently asking if everything was alright, and she nodded, smiling up at him. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss, then pulled her in front of him so she could lean on him and watch the show. She was starting to feel a happy buzz and could tell he was on his way there too. 

Layne pulled her aside when some of their group had dispersed to the bar, bathroom, or to mingle, and asked if she’d go shopping with him the following day for something for Demri’s birthday. She was surprised but agreed. He must want to feel her out like the girls did since she was dating his best friend, and he could tell it was going to “be something”. They made a plan for him to pick her up around noon. 

That night, they somehow made it home without a D.D., Grier didn’t have much recollection of that part, and she and Jerry had urgent, sweaty sex when they made it back to her place, passing out soon after. 

The next morning started off slowly, with headaches and upset stomachs. The whole apartment felt awful, which somehow included Mike on their couch and a “friend” of Lola’s with her who she’d run into the night before. Lola had lots of “friends”. 

She made Jerry drink a lot of water with her, but after that, he said all he wanted was a greasy breakfast. They all threw on some clothes and piled into Grier’s car, Jerry driving them to a favorite diner of theirs. They drank lots of coffee and ate unhealthy, carb-heavy foods while lamenting their hangovers, recounting the night, and laughing. When they got back, Grier and Jerry showered together, conserving water, and she told him about shopping with Layne later. He laughed about it and said he was glad she agreed to it. He said, soberly, that Layne was his best friend in the whole world. He told her he needed to write that day and, considering, said she should look at some of his lyrics since she was an editor. She flushed, flattered and honored and terrified. She murmured her assent and they got dressed. As she was in her very nineties bra and panties, finishing her makeup, Jerry picked her up and kissed her, then tossed her on her bed. They had sex quickly, and Grier wondered if having sex multiple times per day was normal for him. She had never had more sex in her life, and though she liked it, she wasn’t used to it. She was glad to find birth control on her night table when she first time-traveled and took it as religiously as she did in 2016. For his part, no matter how drunk, Jerry always used condoms. She was glad that wasn’t an issue.

After they finished, Jerry kissed her softly then laid down heavily beside her, playing with her hair. “You probably think I’m some sort of sex maniac after what I told you and the fact that we’ve already had sex a million times,” he raised his eyebrows, sitting up on one elbow. 

She looked at him and laughed, “something like that. I was just wondering how normal this was for you.”

“Without getting into the details, this is a lot even for me. I can’t get enough of your sweet ass,” he said jokingly, grabbing it. 

“Well it is a LOT for me,” she replied. “But I’m not complaining.” She straddled him and kissed him, then got up and finished getting ready, him watching her and smoking a cigarette. She pulled on a plaid skirt with platforms and a sweater, feeling like Cher from Clueless, though it wasn’t released til ‘95. She wore her hair down with a little volume. She was still uncomfortable in her nineties clothes and found herself constantly erring on the side of the future when she dressed, though she was trying to enjoy it. She pulled up her skirt when she was dressed to flirt with Jerry and he gave a low whistle. 

“The guys all think you’re so hot by the way,” he remarked.

She turned to look at him. “Which guys exactly?”

He laughed, “oh, she wants details? All of them. The band, Chris, everyone who’s seen us together…” 

“I see,” she smiled.

“Layne said one of his buddies was asking about you last night when we were out and he told him to back off, that you were taken.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Pissed, then lucky. If anything happened between us, you could move on so quickly. I mean, I normally get pretty hot girls...not saying it’s just me, but it kind of comes with the job, we’ve figured out. But you’re on a whole other level, you’re not even like a band girl...you have a career and everything. Makes you even hotter.”

“Well thank you, but rock star or not, you’re so attractive Jerry. You know you are...your body, your hair, your face, your personality” she straddled him, touching each part of him as she mentioned it. “I’ve noticed tons of girls checking you out when we’ve been out together, and I highly doubt it’s just because of the band. But don’t get me started on all of your groupies,” she rolled her eyes. 

He smirked, “yeah, yeah. By the way, our manager told me not to act too serious with you in public. She saw us together at the Music Bank when I kissed you. So don’t get pissed at me if we don’t hold hands or something when we’re out.”

She told him she didn’t like that. She sort of understood, but she didn’t think it’d be good for either of them to let people think he was available. 

He shrugged it off. “Yeah, it’s dumb, but we’ll know so that should be all that matters. The band and our friends know too.”

She finished getting ready, thoughtfully, while he watched her and finished his cigarette. 

When Layne arrived, long hair down and curly, they were both gathering their stuff up to get going. 

He and Jerry joked around and recapped the night a little, then he took off in his Explorer to write and Grier climbed into Layne’s car with him, moving the various paraphernalia so she could sit. There were fast food wrappers, beer cans, and general junk all over it. He shrugged as if to say it was what it was, and they headed to Northgate Mall to shop for Demri’s birthday. 

Layne smoked as he drove, a little carelessly, and asked if she’d had fun the night before. She said she had, and that she’d enjoyed meeting Demri. She fawned over her beauty and charisma, and Layne nodded, saying, “she is something, that’s for sure.” They talked about how long they’d been together and the struggles of maintaining a relationship while in the band, which turned the conversation to her and Jerry, most likely Layne’s motive for asking her to go with him today. 

He spoke highly of him, and she could tell there was a lot of love and respect between the two. Whereas Demri and Melinda had been concerned with how Jerry was to her, it was the opposite for Layne. He echoed some of the same sentiments as Sean had the night they’d met, saying that if she wasn’t really interested in him, she should let him know. He seemed to be under the impression that she was just into the band and wanted to have a good time, probably because that’s how he saw Demri. She clarified that she did like him and want to be with him and that the music was secondary to her. She was a fan, but she wouldn’t be with him for that reason alone. 

“Look, I know he told you he had trouble staying faithful to Courtney and that was tough on both of them, but she wasn’t right for him. I’m not saying that you are, but this is the most into a girl I’ve ever seen him be,” he cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable talking about feelings but wanting to get his point across. “He’s been on cloud nine since that night we played in Portland. I haven’t even seen him look at another girl, and he’s the biggest flirt out of all of us...well maybe except for me,” he grinned. 

She smiled, “it’s mutual. I know he’s your best friend and I am glad you are concerned about him, but I am not going to hurt him.” 

He nodded, “good. He may seem like some super cool rock God to you, but he’s been homeless, lost his mom and grandma one year apart, and has been through a lot to get the band where it is now. He deserves to be happy and cared about by someone like you.”

Grier was pleased by that and felt a rush of love toward Jerry, and Layne as well for loving him enough to talk to her about this. Jerry hadn’t talked to her much about his family or getting kicked out of his house, and it wasn’t something she had known prior to coming to 1991.

They had arrived at the mall and, finishing their talk, got out and went to find something for Demri. Layne must have decided to trust her, because he let loose and started goofing around, trying on women’s hats and acting like a girl to make her laugh. They got a late lunch at the food court - pizza and soda - and Layne helped Grier pick out a couple of things for herself too, telling her she looked “fierce” and that Jerry would die for it. 

When he dropped her back at her apartment, he gave her a big hug and thanked her for coming with him, and for being cool. 

Letting herself in, she felt a pang of sadness that Layne would be dead in less than a decade, and so hooked on drugs that he wasn’t himself for years prior to that. She had planned to keep her distance from him so that she wouldn’t get attached, but he was beautiful. 

Lola must’ve been working because she had the apartment to herself for the first time in a while. It had been a whirlwind. She changed into some house clothes and set about cleaning up, which was overdue. Her heart fluttered when she would find a stray article of clothing of Jerry’s, typically somewhere they’d had sex. She did laundry, scrubbed the bathroom, smiling and shaking her head when she realized he had a toothbrush in there now, and a couple of hours later, checked the fridge and cabinets and decided they desperately needed some groceries, an errand she had put off doing solo up until this point. 

She cleaned herself up, got in her ancient-looking car, though she knew it was modern by early nineties standards and made her way cautiously to the grocery store - still unsure of how to get places and never having been an adventurous driver anyway. She missed Google Maps immensely at that moment. Pulling into a grocery store she had passed in the car with Lola several times, she let out a sigh of relief and walked in. She enjoyed seeing the retro packaging and things that were no longer in production, taking her time, unlike the hurried trips before with her roommate, who didn’t have time to waste on such mundane errands.

She stocked up on fresh produce, rejoicing, and the healthiest of the packaged foods she could find, avoiding the current TV dinner craze, and also some of Lola’s favorite foods, and when she passed the ramen noodle and Chef Boyardee aisle she smiled, picking some up for Jerry. She also got an idea to have a dinner for the band, knowing they worked hard but didn’t take good care of themselves. She reached in her pocket to text them, looking for her phone and panicked. She couldn’t find it. She racked her brain, wondering if she’d left it in the car when she realized she didn’t have a cell phone here. She rolled her eyes at herself and decided to hold off on buying anything for the dinner until she could see if they were interested. She liked to cook, but she didn’t love to make meat and cooking for the whole band, Lola, and their significant others would be ambitious. 

She made her way home, more confident now, and unloaded the groceries, taking her time putting them away neatly and organizing their pantry. It soothed her, and she enjoyed herself. She made a salad with lots of bright vegetables, some tofu she had discovered by chance, and garbanzo beans. She passively watched an episode of Friends while she ate, realizing she had no plan for the night when the apartment phone rang. It was Sean. 

“Hey pretty lady, how’s it going?”

She answered that she’d just finished dinner and was about to figure out a plan for the night.   
“No need, we have one for you,” he said with a laugh, “Jerry said the only way he would quit writing for the night is if, and I quote, ‘Grier shows up in a ridiculously slutty outfit’. He was just being dumb, but Demri has you covered - she loves costumes and has this nurse outfit that would be perfect. What do you think?”

She laughed with him, “not really my style but for you guys...I’m game.” She hung up the phone, freshened up, and threw on her outfit from earlier and climbed in the car, heading to the Music Bank, the grungy warehouse where Jerry and Layne lived together and where they’d rehearsed a few nights before, using a map she had found in her car. She made it in about 15 minutes. 

Demri met her as she parked with the outfit, and Grier awkwardly switched out of her outfit and into that one in her car, Demri making adjustments, and covered her with her coat so she could walk in. It was fake patent leather, ridiculously tight, with thigh-high fishnet stockings, and Grier brought her own black stilettos. She had fixed up her hair and makeup to fit the part and could feel her breasts and ass practically hanging out of the dress. Though it was ridiculous, it turned her on. She hoped she wouldn’t be interrupting their next hit being written. 

This was only Grier’s second time coming here, and the first time had been brief. Sean and Mike shuffled her back to where he was, and she dropped the coat self-consciously but tried to look like a vixen. Sean’s eyes widened, shocked, and Mike’s mouth fell open, then they knocked.

“Stop bothering me, I’m busy,” from inside, him throwing something at the door, a shoe maybe. 

Sean yelled, “I thought you said there was a way you would be done earlier?”

Jerry paused, Grier wondering if he’d respond at all. “Yeah, a slutty Grier.” Grier was glad he hadn’t said something or someone different. Mike and Sean burst into laughter, and Mike responded, “I think we found one of those, princess.”

She heard Jerry get up after a moment and unlock the door, “if you guys are shitting me, I’ll…” He opened the door, gaping at her. 

Sean said, “here you go, this is Nurse Grier. We’ll give you guys fifteen minutes, then we’re going out.” They were all cracking up, Demri and Melinda coming back to see what he thought too. 

Jerry recovered and said, “very funny, now fuck off,” and they went away, laughing at his reaction, and he pulled Grier into the room and locked the door again.

“You think it’s funny to mess with me too, huh? Ganging up on me with my friends?” he asked as he pushed her against a wall.

“Ooo a hardass,” she teased. “Sean’s idea, with some help from Demri,” she indicated to the outfit. 

Jerry slid his hand up the tight costume, not having to go far to get where he wanted, and then unzipped the front. She rubbed him through his pants, feeling him already rock hard. He unzipped his jeans and hiked her leg up then fucked her hard against the wall in the high-waisted panties and push-up bra she had worn underneath, getting into her alternate persona. They came together, trying to be quiet, and he shook his head in disbelief. “You are fucking hot,” he said, with admiration. “Not such a good girl all the time, huh?”

She pulled her other outfit back on from her bag in the hall, “honey, it’s just a costume,” and winked. 

He kissed her softly, “you are incredible. I’m so lucky.”

“I’m lucky,” she said, against his lips, and kissed him again. She moved toward the door. “I’ll be out here while you finish up.”

“Yeah right, after all you guys went through? I’m done, and I’m yours.”

They headed back into the main room hand-in-hand, laughing and blushing as they all hollered when they entered, Jerry faux-drooling behind her. 

They went to a nearby bar, apparently a favorite of theirs and a total dive. They all egged Grier on to go out as a nurse but she refused, so Demri did. It was funny; she was way more brazen than Grier. 

Layne and Grier were sitting together, drinking and talking, when an attractive woman with short, curly black hair approached Jerry, him instantly stiffening. Grier wondered who she was, but no one else was looking at them oddly so she didn’t pay much attention, continuing to talk with Layne. 

A few minutes later, she glanced again and they were nowhere to be found. Grier’s heart leaped to her throat but she told herself to chill out. She stood up, excusing herself, and Melinda stopped her and told her he was with Courtney. 

“THAT Courtney?” she asked, shocked. 

Melinda nodded. “Sorry, I doubt anything is happening, they’re probably just talking.” 

Grier sighed. She didn’t like the feeling this was giving her. She decided to wait it out and trust him, what else could she do? But she was on edge. She had a shot of tequila with Sean, and briefly considered snorting coke with Mike and Layne, then disregarded it. The best way to start a fight is to get fucked up when you’re mad, she thought. 

Half an hour later, Jerry and Courtney walked back in, expressionless, and went their separate ways. Grier didn’t know how to take it or what to do, and Jerry didn’t approach her right away which made it even worse. He went to the bar and took a couple of shots and was smoking a joint. She hadn’t seen him that high yet and didn’t feel like starting tonight. 

Grier told everyone bye, excluding Jerry, keeping it short. She didn’t want to be a drama queen and whine about it, or stick around and cry in front of everyone. She left, making her way to her car, and drove home, tears running down her face and thoughts racing through her mind.

She was supposed to be having fun here, and she had been. What was the point of being here if she was going to feel like shit and deal with drama? She was pretty sure she had read that Jerry and Courtney were together for a long time - eight years or something crazy - and several of their songs were about that relationship. She couldn’t compete with their history or her nineties-ness. She also knew it never worked out, but she didn’t want to deal with him going back to her or being rejected. If that was going to be the case, she just wanted to go home. 

She pulled into her parking space and sat for a minute, shaking her head. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s Eve were all coming up. What was she going to do? Try to go see her family? Be with him? The band? It was too much. Things were getting too real. She grabbed her bag and let herself into her apartment. She’d dressed like a whore and had sex with her boyfriend near all of his friends, which was one thing if they were solid, but embarrassing when he spent time with his ex immediately after. Her face was crimson thinking about it. She showered again and put on her most modest pajamas and buried her head in her pillow. She took the phone off the hook next to her bed and cried. 

She must have finally fallen asleep because a loud, repetitive knock jolted her awake. She considered not answering it, but after a couple of minutes, it seemed that wasn’t going to be an option. She sat, still, worried, and also annoyed at being woken. She had preferred the oblivion of sleep to dealing with her emotions. 

“Grier,” Jerry called. “Open up. I saw your car, I know you’re in there.” 

She was surprised, relieved, and pissed off at the same time. But she didn’t know if she wanted to deal with him if he was fucked up. 

“Grier! Seriously. It’s cold out here.”

She swung her legs off the bed, accepting this was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not. She quickly looked in the mirror, scoffing at her disheveled appearance but knowing she didn’t have enough time or energy to do anything about it and opened the door. “What do you want?” she asked, trying to appear unfazed. 

“What do you mean, what do I want? You left me at the bar without saying anything.”

She looked at him incredulously. “You’re kidding. You left with your ex-girlfriend for forty minutes and didn’t say a word to me before or after. I may be naive, but I’m not hanging around to look like an idiot.”

“You wouldn’t have. I know I should’ve said something to you before I talked to her, and introduced you guys, but I fucked up. She wanted to talk. She heard I had a hot new girlfriend and wanted to know how serious it was. She didn’t see you since you were with Layne. Grier, I told her it’s serious with us. The only reason I took the time to talk with her is because I respect her and she’s been through enough because of me. But I promise that is over.”

They were still standing in her doorway, her making no move to let him in. She pulled her robe tight over her pjs, not thrilled with his explanation. She knew it was shitty of him to do what he did, regardless of his reasoning. “Jerry, I like you, and I let things slide a little because of who you are and what you do, but I should let you know now that I am not going to let you jerk me around or make me look dumb. If you ever cheat on me, I will leave you and that will be it. No amount of knocking on my door or explaining will ever make that okay for me.”

He nodded, agreeing with her, looking stressed but also a little out of it. “Grier can I please come in? I just want to be with you.” 

She didn’t want him driving high, so she let him in but told him to sleep on the couch, and she shut her bedroom door coldly, still pissed and not sure what she was going to do about it. 

Around 5:00 am, her door opened and he came in and got in bed with her, pulling her close. She stiffened, but allowed it, feeling tired and drained. 

When they woke, he cuddled her, being sweet, but she wasn’t ready to make up yet. “Grier, I know you’re mad, babe, but I don’t know what else I can do but say I’m sorry and promise it won’t happen again.”

“I don’t know. I’ll get over it I guess, but you made me feel pretty shitty and ruined my night after I tried to do something fun for you.”

He nodded, arms around her, holding her hands, and she felt his lips on her cheek when he talked. “I get it. I wish I wouldn’t have. I had so much fun with you when you came over. I thought we were going to have a great night together. I didn’t know she was going to be there.”

Grier didn’t say anything but relaxed a little. Being together was a lot more fun than not. 

Finally, she said, “I should have realized what it would be like being with a musician.” 

He scoffed, offended, but wanting to make up. “I have been head over heels for you since we met. It’s been crazy. I always want to be with you and I am so insanely attracted to you. I haven’t even looked at anyone else.”

“I feel the same way,” she agreed. He tilted her chin up to kiss him. 

“Will you come to Tulsa with me for Thanksgiving with my brother and sister?” 

She stilled. This was big. “Let me double check with my parents first and let you know, okay? Thanks for asking me.”

“No doubt, maybe we can work it out so I can come home with you too, maybe we can switch around days or something?”

She couldn’t imagine opening that can of worms. “Yeah...maybe. I’m not super close with my parents though.”   
Thanksgiving. Less than two weeks since they’d met, and they were flying to Oklahoma together to see his family. 

She’d worked it out with her family that she would be home for Christmas instead, glossing over the details, finding her relationship with her parents to be similar to present-day. She’d gathered that, instead of leaving home in her Indiana suburb for Purdue after high school graduation, she road-tripped to Seattle to attend the University of Washington for college and stayed here after. She’d met Lola at a show sophomore year and they’d gone to a million others together, eventually deciding to room together even though Lola wasn’t in college. She wasn’t sure yet on some of the other details but supposed they didn’t matter much at the moment.

Jerry had been surprised she hadn’t minded not seeing her family over the holiday but was so excited to see his that he hadn’t pressed. They took her car, him driving, to the airport, him chatting about everything they were going to do when they got there, like a little kid. He was the oldest of three, and his sister was Cheri and little brother was David. She was nervous about meeting them. He talked of hunting traditions and life on the farm, and she wasn’t sure she was going to fit in and it might ruin everything. 

Fortunately, everything went well, and his family was respectful of her lifestyle. She helped cook and spent time with the animals, and generally had a great Thanksgiving. They’d had to fly back the day after for a video shoot for the second version of Sea of Sorrow, which she’d seen before in the present-day. She went with him to the set and it was unreal to watch the making of it.

They spent the next month in pure bliss. He stayed with her at her apartment most nights, but sometimes he or they stayed at the Music Bank on in his manager’s basement if he had something going on. They went to lots of shows, spent time with each others’ friends, and had fun. He had interviews or made music while she edited books and worked hard at her career, trying to learn everything she could. When they went home for Christmas, it was a little awkward but she tried to make an effort with her parents and they did the same. They liked Jerry instantly, which was good. He was likable. 

By New Year’s Eve 1991, she had almost forgotten she wasn’t from this era, having developed such a good life, staying busy and feeling fulfilled. She’d made plans with the band and Lola of course. She and Layne were at the Music Bank, pregaming when Jerry came in from his car. She had given Layne a hug, trying to comfort him after Demri broke up with him for flirting with their waitress the night before at dinner. He was taking it pretty well but bummed to be single on New Year’s Eve. Grier thought they were both better off.   
Jerry walked in, mid-hug. “Aww, aren’t you two sappy as fuck. Sean, Melinda, Lola, and Mike left to hit up a party. Well, Sean and Mike did. I think the girls went to change clothes first or something. But yeah it’s just us. One big happy threesome,” Jerry motioned for them to come back to his bed, a smirk on his lips.

Layne looked at her and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I’m game, big boy,” he joked, pouncing on him. They wrestled, being ridiculous, Grier laughing and egging them on. 

“Sweetie, my hair!” Jerry exclaimed, doing his best impression of a girl.

Layne smoothed it for him and kissed the top of his head. “Sorry baby!”

Grier rolled her eyes, pretending to be offended, “you guys go on without me, seems like you’re having plenty of fun.” 

Jerry picked Layne up like a baby and acted like he was going to take him back, then dropped him on the couch and knelt at her feet, begging her to forgive him, then picked her up and threw her over her shoulder, smacking her ass. They headed to his car, Layne smoking a joint. 

They went to a friend’s house party and it was nineties alternative heaven. Everyone was thrilled to see the band, and Sean and Mike were already pretty drunk. Grier had a couple of shots and was dancing with her friend Sam when a friend of Sean’s, Steven, stumbled over. He was pretty hot and always flirty with Grier and Lola. Grier had brushed him off, but this time he was drunk, and Jerry was talking with friends in the kitchen. 

“Grier...looking good,” Steven slurred, wrapping his arms around her waist. She wore a short, tight, long-sleeved black dress and heels, hair curled with large rollers and lots of volume a la Cindy Crawford. 

“Hey Steve, thanks,” she worked to wriggle out of his arms. She had to admit, it was a rush being close to him. She felt like he was one of those guys that you would never date but would have fantastic sex with because he was a conceited asshole. 

He wasn’t having it though. He pulled her closer, trying to dance with her. The rest of their friends weren’t paying attention. “Always playing hard to get, I know you’re into me though,” he said into her ear. It gave her chills. 

He was drunk, but not wrong. She had probably been too flirty with him before, but it was just for fun. “You know I’m taken,” she replied with a smile. 

He pulled her closer, against his crotch, still under the guise of dancing. She was annoyed that she liked it, and stopped struggling. Then a couple of things happened almost at once. He moved his hand from the hem of her dress upward and kissed her, and Jerry pulled him off of her and threw him against a chair, pissed. 

“What the fuck, dude?” he yelled, the party coming to a halt. “You and everyone else here knows she’s mine.” 

Steven stumbled back upright. “Your girl wants my dick and has since I met her. Not my fault.”

Grier cringed, hand over her face, knowing this was going nowhere good. 

“Doubt it. She’s too busy on mine to want anything else.” Several people in the growing crowd reacted. 

Grier rolled her eyes, pissed he would say that in front of everyone, “seriously Jerry?” 

He barely acknowledged her. 

She hoped the situation would deescalate from there and kept her mouth closed. 

Steven made the mistake of approaching her again and addressing Jerry, liquid courage, she supposed. “I can’t believe he would say that about you,” he tried, and grabbed Grier’s ass and tried to kiss her again. 

She pulled back and slapped him, hard. Jerry leaped over and pulled him off of her then punched him in the face, bloodying his nose, and Sean and Layne grabbed him and dragged him out while a group protected Steven. 

Grier’s heart was pounding. She was pissed. At Steven for touching her without consent and at Jerry for the way he acted and what he said about her. She considered going home, her go-to move, but the fact that it wasn’t midnight yet deterred her. Why should she let this ruin her New Year’s Eve? She decided to ignore them both and try to have a good time. She found Lola, Sam, and Melinda eventually and drank with them, dancing and brushing off what happened, trying to enjoy herself. After a few drinks, she was pretty agreeable. 

Jerry made his way back inside and found her, pulling her aside to talk. 

“No, Jerry, I’m not talking to you. You were a jerk and possessive, and you’re not going to ruin my night any more than you have already. Go be with your friends and leave me alone.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. “Really? I get that prick off of you and you’re mad at me?”

She glared at him, having said everything she wanted to say already. 

“Fuck. Nice, I’m out of here then. Have a great New Year,” he saluted her and took off with Sean, Layne, and a couple of their friends, Layne hugging her apologetically before leaving. 

Grier felt a twinge of regret, watching them go. She had wanted to be with him at midnight and have a good time together, but she didn’t want to be treated like a piece of meat either. She drank even more and partied with her friends, trying to forget about it, and kissed Lola on the cheek when the ball dropped. Fortunately, no guy there tried to get with her after Jerry’s stunt earlier. 

They made it home late, calling a cab, and Grier puked in the toilet, surprised at herself. She made herself brush her teeth and guzzle some water before passing out in her dress and makeup. 

When she woke up in the morning with a splitting headache, she remembered the highlights of the night before and shuddered. She hated fighting with Jerry and how dismissive he was when he left her there. She wondered nervously what he had done after that. 

She washed her face and changed into sweats before checking her answering machine. There was a message from him at 1:00 am. 

“Guess you’re still out, probably with fucking Steven. Hope it’s worth it,” he chided patronizingly. 

She went to hang up when she heard a girl in the background and the blood drained from her face. If he was with someone last night she was going to kill him. 

She called him at the Music Bank, and of course, there was no answer early on New Year’s Day. She paced, freaking out, and finally decided to go over there. She threw on faded jeans and a sweatshirt, hair back, and drove after eating some toast, Advil, and drinking some water, feeling queasy. 

She banged on the door until some guy answered, half asleep, then went back to Jerry’s room. It was unlocked. She steeled herself, terrified of what she would find. 

It was dark, but she made out several figures in the small, dank room. She knew at least a couple of them were females, and she thought she might vomit again. She didn’t have a flashlight or cell phone, so she stumbled over to his bed and felt around for him. He was there, and someone else was in his bed too. She shook him to wake him up. 

“Jerry, what the fuck?” she hissed. He didn’t move. “Jerry, Jesus wake up.” 

He groaned and muttered to fuck off, still asleep. 

“Jerry!” she said louder. She heard one of the female figures stir. She was nervous about what would happen if they woke up. 

He finally woke up enough to understand it was her. 

“Grier? What the hell?” he was disoriented. 

“Who the fuck is in your bed?” She had made out long, curly hair by this point. 

He sat up, rubbing his head, and pushed her out to the hallway gruffly. 

“What is the problem?” he asked, annoyed. 

“The problem? You left me at a party last night and now you have women in your room. What are you doing?” 

“You kicked me out of the party because you wanted to bang Steven,” he replied, irrationally. 

“That’s not true and you know it. What did you do?” 

“Layne was with those girls. I had to kick them out of my bed when I got back because he had some kind of threesome. He was so shitfaced he wouldn’t wake up and didn’t move. He’s in my bed,” he said tiredly, yawning and looking awful. 

“You didn’t touch them? Or anyone?” she clarified. 

“Well, I had to wake them up, and they were pretty much naked,” he admitted. “One of them tried to climb on me but I brushed her off.”

She glared at him. 

“What about you? You let Steven fuck you?” he demanded, trying to act tough but looking upset. 

“Of course not. I got drunk, went home, and puked.”

“You didn’t kiss anyone?”

“Yeah, Lola. On the cheek. You?”

“Nah, a girl tried. Tiffany, you probably don’t remember her. I pulled away and she kissed my neck. I was pissed at you but I’m not trying to ruin anything.”

Grier studied his face, not sure. 

He rolled his eyes, silent.

“I guess we’ll just have to trust each other. I better not hear something different from Layne or Sean later. You know they’d accidentally let it slip...they wouldn’t let you do that to me.”

He nodded. “You’re right, which is part of why I didn’t do anything for revenge. I knew you would find out and leave me like it was nothing.”

“I would leave you, but it would hurt,” she said. 

He nodded. “Grier, I feel like shit. Can I go back to bed?”

“Not in there you can’t. That room is an STD breeding ground. You can come home with me.”

“Fine, let’s go.”

They made it back to her apartment and crawled in bed, not getting up til noon. She wrapped her arm around him when they woke up, appreciating him being there and understanding how close they both came to ruining their relationship last night and how easy it would be to do. She felt a little better but he’d refused the water and pain reliever she’d offered until he woke again so he felt awful. He threw up and she made him take a hot shower with her. They came back and laid on each other, warm and just wearing towels, for a long time. 

They finally made their way to the kitchen, her in a robe and him in boxers, and she made them breakfast food.

“Grier,” he said, as she was cooking. 

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. 

“I love you,” he said. 

She softened. “I love you too.”

He stood up and hugged her neck, head resting on hers, and they stood that way for a while, potatoes starting to burn. 

“I hate fighting with you,” he said. 

“Me too.”

They ate in silence and stayed in, playing cards and watching TV with Lola and Sean, who came over later. 

That evening before bed, she sat reading in her chair while he played guitar, a pretty normal night. He usually stayed up later than her and she fell asleep to him playing, singing, or writing - sometimes all three. She stood up to get ready for bed and he glanced up at her, setting the guitar down on the bed. 

He stood up and stretched, then hugged and kissed her. 

She kissed him back. “I’m going to lay down.”

He kissed her again, slipping his tongue in her mouth, then moving to her neck. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” she warned. 

“Crazy how we’ve only been together a couple of months, huh?”

“Yeah I know, seems longer.”

“I think we will get married,” he said, point-blank. 

She laughed. “You do, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I see. Maybe we will.” She felt uneasy talking about it though. She didn’t know that she wanted to stay here forever, even though she couldn’t imagine leaving him. 

He nodded. “We will. Not right now or anything...but you’re it. I can tell. You’re the first woman that’s made me feel hopeful about having a family since my grandma and mom died.”

She kissed him, trying to change the subject. He started to pull back to say something else, so she climbed on his skinny body, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Fortunately, she was able to distract him. We haven’t had sex since last year, she thought. 

She slid off her pants and he pulled his off too, then had missionary style sex, both coming quickly and glad to reconnect. 

 

 

One night in the spring after Jerry had been across the country doing some MTV and other interviews with the band, he and Grier were sleeping together in her bed for the first night since he’d been back, and he’d fallen asleep before her for once, exhausted and jet-lagged. They hadn’t even had sex, which they’d been lamenting about on the phone for the past couple of weeks. She’d missed FaceTime a lot while he was gone, but had been really productive at work at least. 

She’d stayed up talking with Lola when he’d gone to bed, and by the time she’d made it in there, he’d been sound asleep. She laid down, trying not to wake him, and pulled the covers up over her body. He’d shifted, and in the light coming in from the window, she admired how perfect he was. He’d kicked the blanket off and was laying on his back, just wearing underwear. His body was incredible. Tall, thin, and toned. She had missed him so much. They had gotten into such a routine that she knew they had both been taking each other for granted a little and this time apart had made them appreciate each other more, realizing how close they were and how much they loved each other. She faced him and put her arm across his chest, loving the feel of him, and how peaceful he looked in her bed. Exactly where he was supposed to be. She couldn’t imagine being without him, despite any issues they may have. He shifted a little and pulled her close to him, still asleep. She fell asleep like that, after covering him up a little, and slept better than she had in weeks with her man by her side. 

 

End of the Nineties

Grier couldn’t believe what she saw as she walked by the jewelry store in Ballard with Lola, sipping their coffees. Jerry with Sean, looking at engagement rings and looking serious. Grier knew it wouldn’t be for Sean, he was single now. 

Lola freaked immediately. “Oh my God, Grier, you know what this means? He’s going to propose!”

Grier thought she might faint for the first time in her life, light-headed. “No way...we haven’t even talked about that. Maybe he’s buying a watch for himself and just happened to be standing in that section?”

“Shut up, you have to be joking,” Lola looked at her as if she were an idiot. 

She and Grier made their way home, and Grier laid down to take a nap to escape from the millions of thoughts she was thinking and emotions she was feeling. 

She woke up, totally out of it, and Lola had made them spaghetti for dinner and some semi-burnt garlic bread. They ate in silence, Lola understanding for once that she didn’t want to talk. 

She surprised them both mid-meal by bursting into tears. “It’s just...I love him but I’m not ready. I don’t know that I want to marry him and be stuck in this life forever. But I don’t want to be without him either,” she sobbed.

Lola patted her back, eyes wide. “I thought you would be excited. You guys are so in love and this is so romantic. I think you were just surprised. You guys have been together for a year! You’re both 26, that’s old enough right? I mean you both have good jobs and have so much fun together.” She was very pro-Jerry and pro-engagement.

Grier shook her head, “I know, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. But it’s a sign that I’m feeling like this right? That I’m not ready or that we shouldn’t get married at all?”

“No, you’re just in shock. I can’t believe you’re that surprised though. He told you on New Year’s that you were the one, and you had only been together a couple of months. He is head over heels for you and everyone knows it.”

Grier was surprised at her memory. “Yeah...but don’t you normally talk these things through first?”  
She rolled her eyes, “yeah, sometimes, but this is so much more romantic. I would love this!”

Grier sniffled and grabbed a tissue to dry her eyes. She felt uncharacteristically dramatic but was overwhelmed. 

After finishing dinner, Lola brought Grier a cupcake from the bakery near their place with a thin candle to cheer her up, and told her to make a wish. Grier smiled, grateful to Lola and her kookiness. She blew it out, wishing for clarity on what she should do - stay in the nineties with Jerry, marry him, and know everything that was going to happen in the future, or try to go back to the present and apply what she’d learned on her trip to her real life. She couldn’t imagine having kids in this decade and essentially lying to them for the rest of her life. It seemed wrong. 

She and Lola watched some TV absently. Jerry called later, and Grier begged Lola to tell him she was out. It was one of the rare nights they’d planned to be apart since he was recording with the band that night, so it was easier for him to stay there. 

Lola was exasperated with her but told him, and Grier stayed up late, writing in her journal and wondering what to do. 

Her bedroom door opened as she was thinking about going to bed, and Jerry came in. She was happy to see him, not expecting to, but terrified that he might propose.

“What’s up, you didn’t call me back?” he asked her, giving her a hug and smelling great. She loved him so much. 

“Sorry, I’ve been writing,” she indicated to her journal, being vague. 

“Huh. Had to come to check on you, it’s one thing to spend the night apart and talk on the phone, it’s another to have no contact at all. I’m going to stay here okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” she kissed him. 

He didn’t press her on why she didn’t call him back, and she was relieved. She didn’t want to have to lie to him or tell him that she saw him earlier that day and get into a big discussion. She asked him to lay down with her while she fell asleep. He was pumped up from recording and wondering what was going on with her but agreed. He laid on his side behind her then kissed her neck and ran his fingers through her hair, giving her chills, and despite all of her reservations about marrying him, she felt herself getting turned on. 

She pressed into him and felt his erection. He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer to him. She was confident she’d distracted him and put their conversation off for another day. She turned her head back to him and kissed him deeply. How could she not want to marry him? What was wrong with her?

He pulled back from her. “Hey, I love you so much.”

“Me too,” she tried to kiss him again but he stayed back. 

“Seriously,” he said, holding her face and looking her in the eye. “I want to talk to you about our future.”

“Can we do it later?” 

He looked stumped. “I guess so. What is the problem?”

“There’s no problem, I’m just tired,” she knew she was being lame but couldn’t deal with it right now. Maybe she would feel differently tomorrow. 

He didn’t believe her, but let it go for now. He had to be confused. He finally relented and kissed her back. She straddled him and bent down to kiss him. “I’m not trying to be evasive. I do love you so much, Jerry.” 

He nodded, placated. “Good. You’ve kind of been freaking me out tonight. We’re okay?”

“More than okay.” She pulled off her shirt and kissed him again. 

 

 

 

 

Chapter - back to 2016

Grier woke up to an annoying alarm, surprised Jerry had let her sleep so long without waking her for sex. She felt rested but muddled. With her eyes still closed, she felt for him, expecting to feel his toned arms - her favorite - or his long blonde hair - a close second and which had a tendency to be everywhere in the mornings. She remembered she had fallen asleep nervous about their future, and her fate as well. She couldn’t feel him and wondered why he wasn’t mumbling to her to turn off the alarm like usual. Maybe he was in the shower already? That didn’t seem right though, he didn’t have anything to get up for. He would never get up without kissing her at the very least anyway. She sat up, confused, searching for the sound with one eye open, and found her iPhone finally, switching it off. 

Something was wrong.

She opened both eyes, fully awake now, and focused. 

She was evidently back in 2016 after nearly a year away. 

The blood drained from her face as she realized the implications. Jerry. Where was Jerry? 

She stood up, shaking, and it hit her. 

Jerry would be in his fifties living in Los Angeles or Washington, she wasn’t positive. She was still 25 and lived in Indianapolis. She sobbed, hoping she wouldn’t wake Kamilah, but Peach must have heard, coming in to nuzzle her. Her joy at seeing Peach and her “real” life was tampered by the fact that Jerry was gone. She felt sick to her stomach. She knew then she had no reason to doubt their relationship and that she was ready to marry him. She kicked herself, knowing that her doubts most likely sent her back to the future. She burrowed down in bed again, Peach licking her face, and tried to go back to sleep, fervently wishing to get back to him. After a few minutes, it became clear that she would not be able to get back to sleep anytime soon.

That stupid candle I blew out. Looks like it made my decision for me. 

So what now? She was supposed to go to her stupid job again? She had seen that she had come back to that Tuesday in January on her phone. She had LOVED leaving it in the past and was now a semi-experienced editor with no ambitions of doing anything in the assistant realm again. Screw that. She figured she would just blow it off and find something else, but her responsible nature prevented her from doing so. She fretted that leaving her first job in publishing so unprofessionally would not look good when she applied for other editing jobs in case she couldn’t get back to ‘92. Sighing inwardly, she stood up, eyes red from crying, feeling heartbroken and sick to her stomach. She looked around her room, taking it in. She told herself she would try as hard as possible to get back to Jerry tonight, but in the meantime, she would force herself to go to work and stay occupied. 

Grier relished her modern shower, her apartment exactly how she liked it and was bummed that Kamilah was gone. 

She had more fun than she expected, given the circumstances, using her hair products and makeup, and nearly burst into tears again when she opened her closet. Everything was so modern and flattering, and the technology made everything so fast. She couldn’t remember everything she used to do on her cell phone and Apple Watch, having gotten used to not having it. 

She took the stairs quickly and made some steel cut oatmeal with berries, and vegetarian sausage links with coffee from her French press and caramel almond milk creamer, fully enjoying all of it. She walked Peach around the block, Indianapolis not looking much better to her than it had before, and made her way to work early. She decided to be the best assistant she could be while she waited out her requisite two weeks notice. 

After stopping by HR, she went to her desk, noticing it as if it were the first time. Tiny and shoved into a nook, and not a place she’d ever found joy or satisfaction. She didn’t even have any personal items there after nearly three years. 

 

Chapter # - End

Basically, life was back to normal. It was June 2016 and she had moved forward in nearly every regard (read: not romantically) after pining away for the nineties, Lola, and, most of all, Jerry Cantrell for months. During a break at work, she scrolled through her monthly Ticketmaster update to see that none other than Alice in Chains would be playing the following month at the at Arlene Schnitzer Concert Hall with the New Regime. She froze, feeling cold. She knew they were still active but she hadn’t considered trying to see them, or him rather, in that way. She had basically accepted that she had left that relationship in the past and that there was no point in trying to see him now. Her last hope had been time traveling back to the nineties in her sleep like before, after blowing out a million different skinny candles. The fact that he had remained unmarried and without children encouraged her, though also made her sad for him. 

She wasn’t too surprised at the cost of the general admission tickets but did see a limited number of V.I.P. tickets that promised a Meet and Greet with the band for an ostensibly high price. She debated. She was twenty-five years his junior in this decade; what did she expect or hope to happen? Her mouse hovered over the Add Ticket to Cart button and her heart beat wildly. 

Finally, she made up her mind. She told herself it may bring her closure and allow her to move on instead of replaying their memories before bed every night. She even thought of messaging the Lola Davies (now Dubois) she had found on Facebook a couple months prior to see if she would like to go with her. 

Grier moved on with her day, contented but anxious. She was glad only a month stood between her and the concert. 

 

On Thursday, July 6, 2016, the day of the show finally arrived. In the month after buying the tickets, Grier had worked out and eaten healthily with a renewed vengeance. It had taken her some time to exercise with the same intensity as before. She had gotten her nails done, shopped for the perfect outfit, and spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready beforehand, a nervous wreck. She wore faux leather, skin-tight leggings, black high-heeled sandals, and a thin, silver, silky blouse, subtle ombre hair blown out at Blow & Go, Portland’s Blow Dry bar on SW 11th Ave, and her makeup done at MAC Cosmetics on SW Broadway, right next to the concert hall. She had spent an obscene amount of money on this night as a whole, and couldn’t exactly afford it, still saving up after the move. But she looked good, and it was intentional. She didn’t know what would happen, if anything, but she knew she needed to put it all out there. She had to catch his attention, and for all she knew, he was so desensitized to attractive fans that he wouldn’t look twice at her. 

She ended up going with a metal head friend named Ember from work, a beauty who reminded her of former Fuse video deejay Juliya Chernetsky. After the New Regime, she found herself getting so excited she was shaking. They had a great time, enjoying the music - so different from the times she saw them in the nineties but still so, so good. She felt an electric jolt when she saw Jerry come on stage. It was hard for her to reconcile this man with her man from 24 years ago. They opened with Hollow and ended with Would?, one of her favorites. She was glad they had played a lot of their classics, though she had listened to his solo stuff and new stuff with interest in the past few months, noting the ways he had developed as a songwriter and guitarist. His talent still blew her away. She and Ember had a few drinks, danced, and chatted excitedly during the breaks.

Her heart was pounding as they made their way slowly to the meet and greet area afterward, full of super fans, most significantly older than her. She imagined all of the things that could go wrong and ruin this opportunity she had placed so much importance on. She sipped some water nervously while Ember had another drink. Grier wanted to be clear-headed but relaxed if she “met” him, but Ember was taking advantage of the fact that they were getting an Uber back afterward. She had told her jet-haired friend that she had always loved Alice in Chains and that she was hoping to meet the band, but hadn’t elaborated much more than that. She looked at her thoughtfully once they arrived, wondering if she should’ve brought such a hot friend. She was curvier than Grier, who was thin and toned, and super metal with an eyebrow ring and black nails, dark lipstick and eyeshadow, and was down to have a good time, not nearly as nervous as Grier. She shook herself, knowing she shouldn’t worry about that. 

While waiting, she noticed they were being eyed by many of the male fans, some close to Jerry’s age. Some tried to be discreet, some didn’t bother. Creepy as it was, it was also reassuring. They’d also received disapproving looks from some of the women - jealousy. She had to know she gave this her best shot. 

It was approximately forty long minutes later than her good friend Sean Kinney, Mike Inez, who had joined the band in 1993 and she hadn’t met yet, and newest member William DuVall, ambled into the large, impersonal room with drinks in hand, followed by Jerry Fulton Cantrell Jr. himself, her ex-boyfriend. He had water like her; she had read he was sober now after going to rehab in 2003. She was glad for him, but it was also odd to her. She was used to how laid back and fun life with him was. 

Women who were older than her, and more heavy-metal than her, either squealed and rushed to them or tried to play it cool and look sexy by hanging back. Men shook their hands earnestly and asked questions. Much older women, some of whom Grier had more than likely encountered back in Seattle in their youth, got autographs and declared themselves their number one fans. Ember, tipsy now, had them sign her chest, thrilled. She noticed Jerry had no qualms about this, and started to get annoyed, then remembered he owed her nothing. He didn’t even know her. Feeling shy but determined, after all of this build-up to not back down, said hello to the band members, and noticed Sean give her a puzzled look as if trying to place her. He was his friendly self though. These guys were professionals now at dealing with fans. 

The largest group of attractive women hung around Jerry, of course, intimidating but not as much so knowing the history they shared. Their chemistry had been off-the-charts since day one in Portland after Van Halen all the way til her final day in 1992. One of the hottest women was scantily clad, had clearly had several drinks, and was getting some attention from him, practically in his lap by the time she made her way over. He glanced up at her as she approached, then looked back at the platinum blonde, loud and obnoxious. Grier wasn’t sure what to do now that she had made it to this point. She doubted herself for a moment and had read fan stories of him being a jerk to them sometimes. She didn’t know if she wanted to put herself in the position to have him dismiss her. Then he did a double-take. His eyes met hers and she felt that he knew who she was, despite the fact he should have no memory of her, just like Lola. He pushed the blonde away slightly, receiving a flirty admonishment from her, and rose to greet her. 

“Hey,” he said to her, “I’m Jerry.” He held out his hand. 

“Grier,” she replied, closing the gap between them and shaking his hand firmly. 

He looked unsure. “I like that name. Do we know each other?” 

“I wouldn’t say that,” she replied with a small smile. You were only about to propose to me last year, she thought. Or two decades ago, depending on your view. 

“Hmm.” Eyes lingering, he took in her appearance, clearly liking what he saw. “Did you like the show?”

“Loved it. You guys were perfect. I’m so glad I came. “Got Me Wrong” gave me chills.”

“I’m glad you did too. Thanks, one of my favorites. I wrote it back in 1991. Can I get you a drink?” 

She smiled to herself, yeah I know, I helped you edit it and was there with you for the Sap release party in February of ‘92. “No thanks, I’m good, I just wanted to say hi and see how you were,” she stammered, surprised at his obvious interest, wanting so badly to leap into his arms and pick up where they had left off. It was clear there was an instant attraction here, just like the night they met before, at least on her end. She stepped a little closer, envisioning ripping off his clothes. She wanted to touch him so badly despite their massive age difference. 

“I’m good, thanks...what -” he was cut off by Ember, who had stumbled up to Grier. 

“I think I need to get home, Grier, sorry,” she said apologetically, slurring her words a bit. She’d had more to drink than Grier realized. Grier was frustrated, not wanting to leave without wrapping this up or hearing what Jerry had been about to ask. 

“Okay,” she responded, resigned. She tried to conceal her disappointment at leaving in the middle of perhaps a very important conversation and not getting the chance again. Then, to Jerry, “we need to go, I’m sorry. It was so nice to see you.” She searched his face, trying to get a read on him, and decided to give him a hug, unable to leave without touching him. He felt safe and warm to her. She could’ve stayed in the hug with him for the rest of her life and be content. 

“Yes, you too,” he hugged her back tightly, arms around her waist, and paused. “Let me get her a car. I’d like you to stay.” He squeezed her hand briefly. 

She felt her face heat up. Ember agreed to this, elbowing her, and Grier got her water while they waited, then saw her out to make sure she was safe. The hour and a half meet and greet was coming to a close by this point, women of all types hanging around to see if they might get asked to go back to their hotel with them, and a few men, hoping to hit up an after party with them or buy them a beer.

Jerry led her to a couple of chairs in the corner and they talked, occasionally interrupted by fans to chat, including the blonde. She sneered at Grier, then ignored her. 

“Jerry honey, I wondered where you ran off to,” she flirted, touching his shoulder. 

He glanced up at her briefly. “Ran into a friend. Have a good night, thank for coming” he said dismissively. 

She looked as if she’d been stung. “Yeah...you too, sugar.” She looked Grier up and down and rolled her eyes, then made her way over to Sean to try to the same tactics on him and hoping for better luck. 

Grier watched her go wonderingly. This must happen every single night, she thought. Except he must take them up on it on the nights I’m not here. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, watching Grier watch the blonde. 

Grier nodded. “You’re popular, huh?”

“I guess so.”

She sighed, “I understand why.”

Afterward, she couldn’t remember much about what was said, though she did recall asking him about his newer music and making conversation about his life now, things she was very interested in. He had such calm confidence to him now, no longer the antsy 26-year-old, living life in chaos and going from one good time to the next. There was also an element before of him needing to prove himself, which he had clearly overcome. She had a feeling of deja vu, reminding her so much of the night they met at Journeys. He paid such close attention to her and she to him that they didn’t realize they were on their own until Sean came up to tell them it was time to go, glancing between them, trying to figure out who she was and what was going on. She assumed picking up groupies was nothing new for them, but she didn’t figure they were usually in their mid-twenties either. 

He stood up and stretched, offering her his hand. She noticed the ways he had aged but was surprised at her intense attraction to him nevertheless. She felt that he was a little squeamish about her age as well, but wasn’t ready to let her go due to it. 

They made their way out of the door into the balmy summer night, and he turned to her once Sean made it out to the waiting shiny black sedan. “Are you coming with me?” He asked simply. 

“Yes.” There was no other response to give. She couldn’t imagine leaving him. And she wouldn’t insult either of them by being coy. So much for closure, she thought, inwardly pleased it had gone this direction. He took her hand, then opened the car door for her and they squeezed in together, him placing his hand on her thigh, much more brazen now that he was sure this was happening. 

Sean noticed but didn’t say anything. The rest of the band members chatted intermittently about their plans for the night - showers, dinner, hotel bar, bed, etc. or scrolled through their phones, some making an effort to talk with her a little. 

The Nines was a short drive away, nicer than any hotel she had ever been to. They could have walked just as quickly, but she figured the band would have been accosted by fans. Jerry led her to his suite, hand-in-hand, and said her to make herself comfortable while he showered. He kissed her right inside of the room, once they were alone. It was soft, running his fingers through her hair, but there was heat behind it too, a preview of what was to come. Her heart raced wildly.

She looked around the suite, admiring its perfection and luxury. The lights were dim, romantic. She slipped off her heels, turned on the TV, and a few minutes later there was a knock. Room service. 

She opened the door, accepting a cart with a bottle of Cristal and a tray of fruit, blushing. Jerry came out of the bathroom then in a white towel, wet and steamy from the shower and making the server blush as well, to tip before she got the chance. 

When the woman left, Grier avoided eye contact, suddenly shy. He poured her a glass of champagne, apparently having an inordinate amount of willpower to be around alcohol often and closely. The Jerry she had known would have sprayed it everywhere, including on her, then chugged it. 

After she had a couple of sips, he grabbed her and pulled her to face him. He kissed her deeply and she could feel the heat from his body, warm from the shower. “I don’t know who you are or where you came from, and you should know I’m not in the habit of picking up women your age, but I want you,” he said clearly, hands firmly on her hips. She remembered him as passionate, devoted to her, but never so direct. It turned her on. 

She pressed her body against his and said, confidently, “I want you too.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you went to the show tonight?” He indicated toward the bed. 

“I wouldn’t say that. I just wanted to see you,” she said truthfully. 

“Huh. I see.”

“But I am sorry to have interrupted you and that blonde who was in your lap,” she smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure you are.”

“Would you have brought her back here if I hadn’t shown up?” she didn’t want to be nosy, but this was her almost-fiance not so long ago, and she wanted to know. 

He gave her a look that said there was no way in hell he’d be answering that. 

She nodded, not surprised, and shoved him playfully, letting it go for now. 

He grabbed her hand and kissed her deeply then, tugging off her blouse. She wrapped her arms around his damp back, feeling how different his body was now but also reveling in how it was the same. They had been in this situation hundreds of times in the nineties, and it was almost as if nothing had changed. Yet everything had. She had worn black for him, his favorite, not hers. She peeled off her leggings and pulled him to her after he had admired her over-the-top, lacy lingerie picked for this night - just in case - and she undid the towel around his waist, letting it fall to the floor. He climbed on top of her, kissing her urgently, and pressed against her.

“You are stunning,” he breathed. 

She kissed him in response, pleased. She knew she was attractive, and that her youth was part of it, but to be told by her ex she couldn’t get over half a year later and couldn’t stop thinking about, not to mention a famous musician she adored, was gratifying. 

He entered her, moving smoothly, not in the frenzied, urgent way they’d always made love in the past. He took his time and made sure they both enjoyed it. 

Lying in the luxurious California King bed afterward, Grier’s lips swollen and hair a mess, Jerry sat up and looked at her seriously. “I wish we had met when I was your age.”

She smiled to herself. “Me too.” We would have had the best time and fallen madly in love, she thought, wistfully. But she heard the implication - you’re too young for me/I’m too old for you. She trailed her fingers over his tattoos and chest, enjoying the feel of him for however long she was going to be able to. 

He asked her if she had any tattoos and she said she didn’t, she’d always been too responsible to take the plunge or for any piercings other than her ears. He said she was better off, and that her skin was perfect as it was. He compared their skin tones and talked a little about his Norwegian heritage. 

They fell asleep sometime after that, waking up several more times, unable to stop touching each other, and were exhausted when they finally got up for good. Their bodies felt perfect together. She felt like she was where she was supposed to be again, waking up with him. His arms were still toned and his hair was still everywhere. She smiled at him and kissed him sweetly before getting up. He patted her back, tired. 

It was a Thursday but she didn’t need to get ready for work. They were closed all week for the fourth of July, which was fortunate. She couldn’t imagine editing books after the night she’d had. They showered together and she felt a little embarrassed - things being different in the morning, and not knowing this Jerry very well. She knew he was massively attracted to confidence and spontaneity though, so she tried her best to act casual and fun. She didn’t want to seem needy or expectant so she pulled on her clothes, wishing she had a change with her, and threw her hair into a loose braid. “I should go,” she said as he dressed, wearing a hat over his long hair. She had scrubbed off her makeup and brushed her teeth with her finger and his toothpaste.

“Come to breakfast with me.” 

“Like this?” she indicated at her outfit, feeling ridiculous. 

“You are perfect,” he said earnestly. He offered her a button-down shirt of his to throw on over her top, and she put it on and tied it at her waist, feeling more comfortable. 

He called for a car and they grabbed a coffee on their way out of the hotel, quiet on the way but always touching - holding hands, his arm around her, her hand on his thigh or chest. They stopped at a local Southern cajun/creole brunch place called Screen Door and were seated by an excited host, a fan of Jerry’s. After chatting with him for a couple minutes, the host went back to work, and Grier made a show of studying the menu, feeling a little awkward until they had given their order. 

“We’re heading back to Washington today. We don’t have another show til Monday in Salt Lake City,” he said conversationally, as he waited for his food to come out, shrimp and grits, she noted. Sophisticated, she smiled to herself. Jerry from the past would’ve ordered chicken fingers and felt fancy. “We just got back from a couple of dates in Chicago and Missouri with Guns N Roses.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense,” she wondered what would come next - you’re too young for me, I’m not looking for anything serious, it was fun...she wasn’t ready for any of it but tried to brace herself, at least hoping for a feeling of closure. She picked at her veggie sausage, eggs, and roasted potatoes that had just come out nervously, her brain automatically always jumping to the worst case scenario.

“I want to see you again.”

She glanced up, surprised. “You do?”

He nodded, watching her face closely. “Is that something you want too?” 

“Yes.”

He breathed out. “Good. We’re not done here.” 

She agreed wholeheartedly, so glad to have a chance to be with him again. She leaned over and kissed him quickly, not wanting to make a scene, and he smiled sweetly at her. She felt blissful, and like everything she had been through had been leading to this reconciliation and back to this relationship. She knew he was it for her. 

They sipped their coffee and chatted contentedly and left hand-in-hand, the car arriving at her apartment too soon. He kissed her for a very long time and not long enough all at once. They exchanged numbers and kissed again. And again. As she was climbing out of the car, Jerry glanced at his watch. She mistook it as him needing to get on the road. Instead, he asked if he could come up for a minute. She beamed at him, nodding and heart racing, and he followed her up the stairs after asking the driver to wait. She was a little embarrassed to show him her apartment after the extravagant hotel from the night before but told herself that was dumb. She was proud of where she was at in life.

Once inside, they stripped off their clothes, both sore and tired but not caring, and unable to make it past the entryway. They had sex quickly against her front door, reminding her of when she’d dressed as a nurse for him at the Music Bank. He kissed her afterward and told her he was sorry to leave her but that he had to go. She climbed into his arms, kissing him one more time, and let him go. She felt thrilled, sad, and had a million thoughts running through her mind at the same time. It was like everything had changed since she left here the night before. She put on some comfortable clothes and curled up in bed, mind reeling. As her mood was turning more toward being sad about him being gone and feeling lonely, she checked her phone and saw a text from him. 

I would’ve loved to spend the day with you.

Then, a moment later, and your body. 

She smiled. Me too. She debated using an emoji or not and decided against it. He was 50, she didn’t want to look immature. She laid her phone down and felt it buzz before she let it go. She glanced - a kiss emoji in response. She liked that he seemed to have grown out of the three-day wait rule. She smiled and sent him one back and fell into a dreamless sleep, much-needed. 

Waking three hours later with no memory of the night before at first, she stretched, feeling sore but more rested, and hungry. She also needed to pee. She brushed her teeth after and felt like she could use a hot shower. Then it all came back to her. Jerry. They’d had a wild, steamy night together. Her Jerry from the nineties. Her ex, she supposed, though technically they never broke up. They couldn’t get enough of each other then and they couldn’t last night or this morning either. It surprised her a little, but not as much as she would have thought. It turned out their chemistry could transcend decades and time travel. She didn’t know what would happen from here, and she missed him but felt infinitely better than she had since she had so abruptly left him in 1992. She had accepted that their relationship was over and couldn’t be rekindled, but it turned out she may have given up too easily. Maybe they were supposed to be together. Maybe she had it wrong that the lessons she was supposed to learn from her time travel were to appreciate the conveniences of the present, find a new workplace, move to the Pacific Northwest, be closer with her family, and get a fun fling out of her system...maybe being with Jerry was part of what she was supposed to learn. 

After her shower, she dressed in head-to-toe Lululemon and made a light lunch with lots of vegetables and plenty of water. Body aching, she jogged to a hot yoga class in her neighborhood to limber up. She grabbed a coffee with her stylish Armenian friend from class, Elise, afterward and recounted the highlights of the night before, blushing. Elise was all business, asking her specific details and giving feedback. It was fun. She kept most of it to herself, him being famous and all, but it was nice to talk about it. Her body felt better in most places, she felt more rested, and she scrolled through Instagram when Elise stopped by the restroom. At the top of her feed was Jerry Cantrell, who she had followed prior to her time travel, with a black and white picture of the venue from the night before and a caption reading simply - Fun night. She smiled, knowing that it was about more than just the show. She also saw Ember’s post of her autographed chest and concert shots from the night and quickly texted her, making sure she was feeling alright. She responded back shortly after, with a “rock on” emoji. 

She called Kamilah on her chilly walk home and recounted the highlights, Kamilah being as supportive and wonderful as ever and updating her on her life also. She missed her so, so much. One of the hardest things about leaving Indianapolis had been leaving her perfect roommate and best friend. 

At home that evening she read through some manuscripts but had to keep refocusing due to daydreaming and recalling the night before, as well as comparing their meeting to the Jerry she knew in the past. She got up to get some black bean soup and looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t look like the bombshell she had been the night before but was pretty still. Her lips were still a little red and swollen still from kissing him and her face was tender from being scratched by his beard. Around 9:00 she decided she’d been productive enough for the day and set the most recent manuscript on the coffee table, then curled up on the couch with some hot herbal tea and flipped on the TV. She watched a DVR'd 90’s Nation from MTV Classic and scrolled through her phone, Googling images of Jerry, both young and old, and trying not to creep too hard. It was just too easy in 2016 to find out anything about anyone, especially a celebrity. It bummed her out a little. When she scrolled through Instagram again, her only social media vice, she saw a new follow request. Jerry Cantrell. She smiled and accepted it. 

She posted a couple of shots of the show the night before, of her and Ember with drinks, and meeting the band, tagging Jerry. 

She wondered what Jerry would be doing when she finally got up to get ready for bed, and as she burrowed into her cool sheets, she tried not to be disappointed that she hadn’t heard from him after this morning. She told herself that his generation weren’t big texters and knew that he was a busy guy, but she was used to people her age who were always connected to their phones. She debated, not wanting to seem too thirsty, but eventually deciding to text him goodnight. She didn’t hear back, which made her feel a little lonely, but she felt better than she had before last night when she was trying to get over it. 

When she woke up that Friday, she glanced at her phone to see not a text, but a voicemail from none other than the myth, the legend, rock God Jerry Cantrell. 

Hey, it’s late and I imagine you are sleeping. I just wanted you to know I am thinking about you and wishing you were here. Talk to you soon. 

She blushed and checked the time. 1:00 a.m. She was happy to know he was thinking of her and presumably not with someone. They had no discussion of whether or not they would be seeing other people after their whirlwind night, and she told herself it was none of her business if he slept with anyone else. Easier said than believed though. 

She didn’t know whether to call him back or not - musicians must have odd sleeping schedules - so she sent a text around 11 saying she had gone to bed thinking of him and missing him too and that she hoped he was enjoying being home. 

At noon he called her and said that they were heading to a Sirius satellite radio interview and asked what she had planned for the night. She said she may run into work to get some stuff done although they were still closed for the holiday. He asked a few details about where her office was and how long she thought she’d be, making conversation. She didn’t want to seem needy so she didn’t ask when he’d be back her way, but she was hoping it was very, very soon. He asked her to send him a picture, so she sent a mirror selfie in her strappy push-up bra, being flirty - “Millenials and their selfie skills,” he’d said, then that he enjoyed it completely. She wished she had found a publishing job closer to him in Washington, but she liked Portland a lot. It was smaller and easier to get around than Seattle, important to her since she’d moved here on her own. He’d also lived in Los Angeles prior to the past three years before settling back in Washington.

After hanging up the phone and going about her day, contented from their conversation, Grier was productive at the gym and at work, always preferring to get things done there rather than at home, and was considering getting some friends together for a drink or movie or something when her phone buzzed. 

How’s work going? Jerry asked.

It’s good, wrapping up now. Thinking of finding something to do. 

Like me?

If only that were an option, she teased back. Flirty Jerry was always her favorite. 

Would you fuck me if I were there? 

At work? Maybe. There’s no one here. 

Mmm. 

What if I were where you are? She paused. And where is that exactly? She wanted to be able to picture him, wondering if he were at home. 

Couldn’t. Too many people. We’d have to go someplace quieter. 

I see. She wasn’t sure what to say. She was bent over a few minutes later, stuffing manuscripts into her tote and felt a man’s hands grab her waist from behind. She screamed. She had thought she was alone. She spun around, panicked, and her alarm turned to excitement at seeing Jerry in her office, then to confusion. 

“What the -” she began, but was cut off roughly by his mouth pressing onto hers. She kissed him back, mind reeling, and noticed he had kicked her door shut. She pulled back and looked at him. “I thought you were in Seattle?”

“We were, but then I had some time, so I flew back to you instead. I didn’t want to go to bed wanting you and not having you again.” He said all this while kissing her neck, her shoulders, her chest. “The jet is waiting to take us to my place when you’re ready,” he informed her. “I want you home with me.”

She gaped, not knowing where to start. “I’ll need to go back to my place first…” she trailed off. 

“That’s fine, I have a car to take us.” She realized that, in the midst of this exchange, he had undressed them both. He sat her on her desk and pushed into her. 

Friday still

After packing quickly, letting Peach out, and changing clothes, they headed to the jet and embarked on the 50-minute ride. The whole ordeal was extremely romantic and luxurious to her. The pilot was partitioned off from them and it was otherwise unstaffed. They couldn’t keep their hands off of each other during the flight, her straddling him or him between her legs, and her mind raced wondering what awaited her in Burien. 

They pulled themselves together when the pilot announced their descent, laughing at how ridiculous they had been. Jerry got his new Range Rover out of the lot when they arrived to drive them to his house. It was rainy and chilly that day and she huddled into her rain jacket, him holding her hand and taking her bag. 

They talked on the drive, getting to know each other more, about their families, their work, their goals and plans, and their lives. She knew all of the early stuff he told her, but the recent history was interesting. His hand stayed firmly on her thigh, squeezing occasionally. They arrived at a beautiful home with a gate and he typed in the code on the keypad then left the Rover in the driveway. He carried her bag in and they were greeted by his two Cornish Rex cats, Teddi and Harold. She loved cats (really just animals in general) and pet and played with them while he built a fire and poured her a glass of wine he’d had the driver pick up for her. It was exquisite. 

They made love in front of the fire on the couch and she sipped her wine after, tangled in blankets and each other and talked for hours, occasionally taking a break to do it all again. It reminded her of their first time in ‘91. He made them a quick but delicious dinner and she looked around a little. It was cozy and beautiful with a lodge feel to it. They got in his hot tub later, her in the tight, tan bikini she brought with her, but it didn’t stay on long. She realized then that they hadn’t had sex in the same location or position more than once, despite how many times they had so far. She wasn’t surprised. He was always adventurous and loved spontaneity and sex. She fell asleep after the third time or so and he carried her to his bed where they slept in each other’s arms, having sex again in the middle of the night, half asleep. 

She woke up before him on that Saturday and was glad that she had gone home to pack a bag. She showered and threw on one of his shirts, a routine she missed from before, and tied her hair in a messy bun. Then she went to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Seeing there was plenty to cook with, she decided to make them breakfast, also something she missed doing when they stayed together. She made pancakes with fruit and coffee in his French press - it all taking longer than planned since she needed to track everything down and figure out how to use it, cats rubbing against her legs as she moved around the kitchen. She was so impressed by how together his home was, a far cry from the Music Bank or a manager’s basement in the early nineties. His kitchen was stocked, the house was clean, and it was decorated in a way that she found suited him. It made her happy for him...and for her. This is not the life they would have led if they had married back then. He rolled in right when it was done - always with the perfect timing - and flashed her a big smile. 

“You look amazing. I could get used to this sight,” he said, leaning against the doorway and rubbing his beard, indicating to her in his kitchen making breakfast. 

“So could I, but we’d have to get some hemp milk or something,” she replied with a wink. They kissed and sat down at his wooden kitchen table to eat and drink their coffee. 

Around 10:00 he said he’d like to show her around the town. She dressed in short shorts, showing off her long legs, a cotton tee, and Converses. They grabbed lattes at a local coffee shop and walked around the downtown, realizing that Jerry was VERY popular here very quickly. She reflected later that he must have been aware that he would garner a lot of attention and didn’t mind showing her off. They held hands or he kept his arm around her, always touching. She enjoyed herself and they shopped at Whole Foods and had a quick lunch from the hot bar. He told her to get whatever vegetarian stuff she wanted for his house and plenty of it. She smiled at that, liking the implication. It surprised her a little how easy the conversation was with them, despite their age difference and the fact that he hardly knew her, and she didn’t know him as well either for this time period. He asked her if she could stay for the night or if she needed to get back while they were at a park in town. She called to arrange for her neighbor, Paul, to let Peach out, Jerry raising his eyebrows at her male neighbor having a key to her place, and agreed. 

 

On the drive back to his house, he said that he wasn’t trying to sound like an arrogant prick, but that he could get sex when he wanted it and had never felt this addicted to someone. He said that the more he fucked her the more he wanted to. 

Grier agreed with him. They had been like rabbits in the nineties, up to seven times a day when they could and usually no less than three. Absolutely infatuated with each other. And it was amazing back then, but surprisingly even better now after he had matured and gotten more experience. She was glad she had stayed on birth control and hoped that he was still disease-free from the rampant groupies, as abundant as ever. 

He seemed puzzled though and seemed to think about it for a long time. Finally, he said, “listen, Grier, you are stunning and I want to have more sex with you than I ever have with anyone. I just don’t get it. I’m over twice your age. Trust me, I’m enjoying myself, but I wonder, what do you get out of this?”

She was surprised he would ask, it was a pet peeve of his to question a connection and not just be in the moment, so he must have really been wondering. But she knew what he meant. Did she have daddy issues? Was she obsessed with AIC? Sure, he was an attractive older man and famous, but Grier was beautiful, successful, and young. “It will sound lame no matter how I say it. I’ve always loved your music and have found you attractive. I’m not a super fan or whatever, and I’ve never wanted to be with an older man before, but from the moment I met you, we’ve had this intense chemistry that I can’t deny and can’t imagine losing,” she tried to explain. “Maybe we won’t have much in common, but you never know.”

He watched her face carefully, listening to her and trying to understand. He was quiet for a minute after, thinking. He had been careful not to touch her during this time, knowing he would lose focus if he did. “Well, I definitely understand the chemistry because you know I feel it too. I did from the moment I met you. It’s just weird. I’m around women a lot and nothing like this has ever happened. I just wonder what it is about us and what we’re supposed to do about it.”

“Enjoy it I guess,” she said, kissing him softly, biting his lip a little. 

“I’m fine with that but I feel like I can’t be away from you and we’re still touring. I’ve never found this lifestyle to be conducive to a relationship but I want to fuck you nonstop,” he sighed, turning onto his street.

Fortunately, they had made it back to his house by then, his bed a few steps away. 

They had a great night together, going out for dinner at Altura, a three Michelin starred restaurant in Seattle, him in black and her in an off the shoulder swingy red dress and high-heeled nude sandals, hair wavy and half back in a loose braid, with his friend Nancy Wilson from the band Heart and her husband Geoff Bywater in Seattle and walking around the Capitol Hill neighborhood and Green Lake afterward. They were openly apprehensive about her age but warmed to her quickly when they saw how well she and Jerry got along and after figuring out she wasn’t just some crazy fan. They got vegan donuts at Mighty O near the lake and sat on a bench talking for a while after, holding hands. 

Sunday they slept in, making love all morning, and, after a steamy shower together, she said that she should probably get home and get ready for the week soon. He talked her into coffee first, and they strolled around his neighborhood, hand-in-hand, blissful. They decided to drive to Portland, a trek, and he would stay with her before heading out for his show the next morning. They played everything from eighties to nineties rock to contemporary rap on their way, singing along goofily, and stopped and got snacks. They stopped at a rest area at the halfway point and were thankful for his spacious backseat. It had been a perfect, surreal few days, Grier not believing how much her life had changed and how quickly. 

Finally arriving back to her apartment, she unlocked her door and her neighbor Paul stepped out in the hallway to say hey, not realizing she had company, and Jerry not realizing how attractive Paul was. Paul had a surfer vibe to him: tan, muscular, young, and friendly. Grier was too ready to get settled in to say more than hi and thank him for taking care of Peach. He gave her a look, questioning why she had Jerry with her and wondering who he was, more of a fan of dubstep and rap than 90s alternative/grunge. She introduced them quickly and said she’d see him soon, Jerry glowering behind her, making no attempt to be friendly. 

They stepped into her apartment, shutting the door. Grier went to change her clothes but Jerry stopped her before she got far. “Who is that guy? How are you so close when you’ve only lived here a few months?” He was clearly miffed. 

She looked at him, not in the mood for pettiness. They hadn’t had a disagreement in this decade yet, despite spending nearly all of her time with him since Wednesday night. Although she recalled a slight jealous streak and definitely some moodiness from him in his twenties, she was exasperated. He should’ve grown out of that. She knew he was confident enough to not need to question it. “He’s just a good neighbor, friendly. Nothing has happened between us, he’s not my type - clearly,” she said, indicating to her middle-aged beau, trying not to be annoyed. Generally, she was flattered by a little jealousy, but she just wanted to get settled in and get stuff done. 

He wasn’t having it. “Well, clearly he wants something to happen, probably just biding his time.” 

“I’m flattered that you care, really. But this is a non-issue. You weren’t in my life until Wednesday night, late. Four days ago. My life wasn’t just on hold, waiting for you, you know. ” It kind of was, in the love department at least, but she didn’t want him to know that, and couldn’t explain it without sounding totally nuts. “If I don’t want anything to happen with him then it won’t happen, regardless of what he wants. It would be like me being pissed at the groupies always around you.” She was but had no right to be. They’d had no conversation on exclusivity or made any sort of commitment to each other whatsoever. For all they both knew, they were just having some casual fun. But this wasn’t fun, so it would have to be addressed sooner rather than later. 

Still mad, he snapped back that it was different. She stayed calm and said that not only was it very similar, but it was actually worse, trying to reign in her frustration to keep this from getting out of hand. 

He sighed. “I don’t want any of them. I just want you.”

“And I’m trying to tell you the same thing, you’re just mad,” she complained, Peach looking between them as they argued. 

He softened a little, “we have a lot to figure out, but I know we should be together because I can’t imagine any other option.”

Despite her initial annoyance, she was happy to hear him say that and to have it settled. “So no one else, right?” 

“Right, you’re mine….my girlfriend,” he chuckled darkly. “50 years old with a 25-year-old girlfriend. What a cliche,” he scoffed at himself. 

She rolled her eyes. She wished he would stop focusing on the age difference since there was nothing they could do about it at this point. Though they had their issues in ‘92, that wasn’t one of them. She took her stuff to her room and unpacked, throwing laundry in the washer and cleaning up a little. He switched on ESPN and had been quiet. 

She changed into royal blue Lululemon shorts and a slim, fitted ice blue tank that showed most of her back over a strappy white sports bra, accentuating her her toned body, with her running shoes and a hat over her ponytail, sunglasses, and earbuds. She said she was going to take Peach for a run, and he nodded, barely glancing at her, then looked again, admiring her. She knew he couldn’t be mad forever. He said he’d see her when he got back, and Peach was impatiently hopping around, now that she’d heard they were going for a run.

She took her around the neighborhood a few miles, enjoying the warm, sunny weather, and Peach had a blast getting some energy out after being cooped up inside for most of the weekend. They walked to the Northwest District, also known as Nob Hill, farmer’s market in her neighborhood on their way back and she stocked up on in-season produce for her meals for the week and to make something for them for dinner. They made their way back, happily tired, and Grier’s thoughts turned from her mental to-do list of what she needed to accomplish before the week began to Jerry. She felt a little awkward that they had fought while he was staying at her apartment. 

She opened the door to let them in, Peach getting some water and curling up for a much-deserved nap. She expected Jerry to still be on the couch but didn’t see him, so she left the produce in the kitchen and peeled off her sweaty clothes, changing to take a quick swim in the pool in her apartment complex. She threw on a white bikini with mesh cutouts and grabbed a towel and headed there in sandals when she didn’t see him anywhere. 

She jumped in, swimming a few laps, then laid on a lounge chair to dry off. There were just a few other people there for a Sunday, some parents and children, and she appreciated being able to relax. She was reading a manuscript when Jerry found her. 

“Hey good lookin’,” she said, lowering her sunglasses and looking at him suggestively. He had on a white shirt, open across his chest, and shorts. He looked fantastic. “I couldn’t find you.” 

“Hey, babe. I had to run and grab a couple of things. Saw Peach and figured you were back somewhere.” He kissed her then paused, running his hand along the water droplets on her leg. “Sorry for being an ass. I was worked up from the craziness of being with you this weekend. Of course you’re going to have admirers, look at you. I can’t get pissed every time we encounter one and I know it’s a double standard because of the girls hanging around us at shows. I just can’t imagine losing you and it freaks me out that I care this much, and so soon.” He said in a low, tired voice. 

“I’ve been pretty worked up too, and I don’t want to lose you either, ” she said. “I like a little jealousy at times, I just wasn’t in the mood for it,” she admitted. “It has definitely been a whirlwind.” 

He nodded. 

She hugged him, glad to have made up. “Trust me, I don’t even remotely want anyone else. I’ve been single for months and haven’t found anyone I’ve been interested in until you. But I have to say, Googling you the other night made me sick to my stomach. So many pictures of you with beautiful, famous women, a lot of them closer to your age than me. It just makes me wonder why it’s never stuck with any of them, and why you’ve stayed single so long,” she trailed off.

He smiled and cupped her face, “because they’re not you.” He laughed, realizing how cheesy it sounded, and said, “no, really. I’ve had flings, sure, and relationships. I mean I’m old, I’ve been around, but I’ve never found someone I want to settle down with.”

Grier nodded, happy to hear it and embarrassed to have admitted to cyber stalking him, and they agreed on heading back to the apartment after laying together in the sun for a while. 

That evening, they made a pasta salad with veggie burgers and sparkling water, and Jerry helped Grier meal prep, remarking at how healthily she ate. He told her he hoped she’d rub off on him. She noticed that he helped her clean up too, and was impressed. 

They ate, went to play cards with the Bye and Bye crew, him impressing them, made love, and fell asleep together embarrassingly early and slept all night. It was blissful. 

 

Monday morning she and Jerry got up early and walked Peach together, made breakfast, then she left a little before him for work while he ready to go to Utah. 

She got a lot done, despite her crazy weekend, and it felt good to get back to her routine of staff meetings, editing, work friends, and the gym right after work with friends, changing from her dress clothes into a sherbet orange sports bra and high waisted bright purple cropped yoga pants. 

She, Elise, and Brynn, a pilates instructor, went to a great boot camp workout and they had each other cracking up throughout. She loved spending time with them and that they were so into fitness like she was, normally a solo thing for her prior to Portland. She grabbed a smoothie bowl and shot of wheatgrass after with them. Afterward, she trekked home, preferring to walk when she could to help the environment and her own health, both mental and physical. Her used Prius was saved for further trips. Grier loved living so close to everything here. 

She was pleased with her social circle here. Portland had taken her right in without too painful of an adjustment. The Pacific Northwest was not known for being very friendly or welcoming, but her workplace was generally young and her gym was hip and full of like-minded individuals. She had gone on a few dates with men she’d met there. She had been nervous to live on her own, worried she’d spend all of her time by herself, but that hadn’t been true for long. She’d met a few acquaintances initially through various events that sounded interesting to her through meetup.com, and had met up with a few of those people afterward. She had even joined a decent book club through it and found a couple of people to try out new vegetarian food with. She felt pretty settled here and believed it had been the right move to make. Her dates had been fine, but she hadn’t been ready to move on. Anyone who wasn’t Jerry hadn’t worked for her, though she had had a couple of casual hookups. She had moved to Portland after receiving the junior editor job offer from Tavern Books after applying to multiple companies in Washington, Oregon, and northern California, and the salary had been more than fair. Though she was absolutely enamored with her job, once she got her bearings and had a good handle on her work about 2-3 months later, she decided to take on a shift one evening per week at a local bar and restaurant called the Bye and Bye near her apartment to meet more people and stay busy. It had been the right call, quickly feeling acclimated by chatting with coworkers and patrons. Figuring out how to make the drinks and trying out the food had kept her entertained also. Her closest work friend so far was a witty, hipster bartender named Finn Harris, who instantly made her feel like she was a part of the crew, having her join the restaurant’s game nights on Sundays when they were closed which had been a big help. 

On her way home that day, listening to Tyga, she realized she hadn’t gotten a call or text from Jerry. She was a little disappointed but preoccupied with her regular life assumed he was too.

Making it home, she was accosted at the door by her Peach, and took her on a walk around the neighborhood, stopping at the dog park to let her run and play for a bit. It was then that she got a text alert on her Apple Watch. Jerry.

I miss you, girlfriend. How’d the day go?

She smiled. Day was good. Nice to get back to normal...in some ways at least. Make it to Salt Lake City? She sent a picture of Peach, frolicking with the other dogs. 

Yes. Thinking of you though, we’re too far apart. 

I miss you, weird to not be together after the weekend we’ve had. 

Yes. Talk soon. Kiss emoji. 

She sent one back and sighed. She was thrilled they were back together but it was hard being away from him, even more so than before the weekend because she had started to accept that it was over and that she wouldn’t be going back in time, no matter how many cupcake candles she blew out. She was also happy with her life in Portland so far and had filled it with so many activities that she wasn’t sure what would happen in the future. Move to soggy Seattle? Get married? Have kids? Sure, that was in the cards in 1992 for them, but things were different now. She had a new life and he was a perma-Bachelor by this point. She knew he was into sports and hunting and maybe there wasn’t a place in his life for a wife or family. Would she be okay with that? She slowly sunk into a bad mood thinking of this as she leashed Peach and walked her back home, wiping off her paws before letting her go. Peach raced to her water dish and Grier took off her sweaty gym clothes, changed into sleep shorts, and saw that Jerry had made her bed, neatly, and left her a note on the counter with a heart on it signed Jerry. 

Nineties Jerry had left her the same note, many times. She saved them. But he wouldn’t have made her bed, rather leaving his clothes strewn all over it and plates on the counter. He was sweet and meant so well, but creative and not extremely conscientious. He had a lot of passion, and was so excited for his career, but was still immature. She found that she appreciated this newfound thoughtfulness, since she cared about those things, and added it to a plus of 2016 Jerry. As much as she loved him in the early nineties, he would’ve been tough to be married to for those reasons, as well as the budding fame and temptations he was facing. She didn’t feel like he was truly ready, despite his willingness to commit and the love that he had for her. She felt a little better, reassured that she was getting on the right track and there might be hope for their relationship. 

She sent him a text. Thank you for making the bed and for the sweet note. I appreciate it. 

She didn’t hear back from him right away, knowing by now he would be in pre-show mode. Eating a healthy dinner (unlike nineties Jerry who lived off of Spaghetti-O’s, beer, and cigarettes), drinking lots of water, and warming up. 

She decided to pull together a quick dinner of homemade red pepper hummus, raw vegetables, and pita chips. She turned on her Drake Pandora radio, dancing a little as she cooked. She loved contemporary rap, a close second to nineties alternative rock. When she had first traveled back to the future, she had been obsessed with listening to nineties music after her new perspective on it and after seeing so many of the prominent bands live. She had only recently gotten back into rap after seeing Kendrick Lamar in Portland, being in awe of him since 2013. 

As she was eating, she caught up on the Bachelorette, her favorite show, and not even in a guilty pleasure way. She adored it. She was a romantic. After cleaning up, she strummed her fingers on her kitchen counter and decided to go swim a few laps before bed, the sun still out. She put on a bright coral bikini, some sunscreen, and brought a couple of manuscripts with her. Swimming and laying in the late evening sun, she felt tired from the day but accomplished and back on schedule. She saw another neighbor she knew vaguely, enough to say hi to, and they chatted about the good weather and it made her happy. Grier couldn’t afford the nicest apartment in Portland, of course, coming off of being an assistant for years and relocating to a new city, but she liked hers fine for now. She had some friendly neighbors her age, and it was clean and comfortable if a little small. Certainly smaller than the townhouse she’d shared with Kamilah in Indianapolis. The thought of Kamilah and not seeing her every day made her heart hurt, and she knew Kamilah was sad too, though happy for her. 

She got to bed early, missing both 1992 and 2016 Jerry like mad, but being grateful that he was a short plane ride away rather than 24 years in the past.   
That Thursday after work, Jerry flew Grier to Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Her office was always closed on Fridays. They were performing Sunday in the Rock USA Festival at Ford Festival Park, but the festival started that night with some rock bands including Five Finger Death Punch, and he wanted her to be there with him. She was nervous about meeting him on her own, but he had a driver pick her up at work take her to the airport so she wouldn’t have to leave her car there, and another pick her up at the Appleton airport. She did some editing on her laptop on the way. He had hired a dog sitter to come to walk Peach and feed her while she was gone, not wanting her to ask Paul again. 

The driver dropped her off at the hotel Jerry and the band were staying at, and she took a quick shower after the day of work and the flight. She hadn’t been to an outdoor music festival in a couple of years, and didn’t want to overdo it with her outfit, so she wore a flowy floral romper, some gold jewelry, and her sun-highlighted hair down and wavy, with a few braids coming down from her crown (thanks to a YouTube tutorial), sandals, and some bronzer and highlighter. She hurried, and room service had brought her up a couple of local IPAs, her favorite, and hummus, veggies, and fruit to snack on while she got ready. Thanks, Jerry, she thought, excited. She appreciated how well he had taken care of her so that she would have an enjoyable and relaxing trip there, minimizing anything that would have been stressful for her. He was waiting for her at the festival already, and the car was ready for her downstairs. She left, excited and nervous, and the driver took her to the festival and escorted her to where Jerry was, in a V.I.P. area, full of bands, watching a show. 

He didn’t notice her for a moment, then turned and a wide grin spread across his face. “My Grier!” he said happily. They hadn’t seen each other since Monday morning. She jumped into his arms and kissed him, getting the attention of the musicians and their guests nearby. She was normally more reserved, but too excited to see him, plus the beer and relaxing experience she’d had getting ready lowered her reservations some. 

He introduced her to some people, a lot of whom she had never heard of, not being very familiar with contemporary rock, but she tried to keep them straight to look up later, hopeful that she’d encounter them again in the future and not wanting to be the loser who couldn’t remember names. She was excited to meet Corey Taylor from Slipknot though, whom she had listened to in college a lot. 

They stayed there late, listening to bands, and she enjoyed it, but mostly being with him, and also because of the envious looks from his fans. While she was getting another drink, a guy from a band she hadn’t met yet came up and tried to hit on her, not realizing who she was with. Jerry noticed, and came up and kissed her dramatically in front of him, and the guy backed off, hands up, as if to say he didn’t know. 

He smirked, saying it wouldn’t long til everyone knew they were together and she wouldn’t be bothered. 

She rolled her eyes. She could care less about that and knew that even if girls knew Jerry was with someone he would still get hit on. She distinctly recalled the New Year’s Eve party where he asserted his claim over her and the drama that unfolded. At least he had matured a little in that regard. 

They went back to the hotel late and had sex all night, her a little tipsy and him enjoying her being so uninhibited. She remembered him joking that he was getting too old for this after the fourth time or so.

Friday, they slept in some and got room service for breakfast, then got ready to go to the second day of the festival. She wore white high-waisted shorts with a black pattern, black sandals, and a black, fitted, cropped tee that crisscrossed at her abs, with her hair down and wavy, bracelets, and a feather headband. Jerry loved it. 

She met some other girlfriends of band members that day and saw Skillet and Slipknot with them, having fun and drinking more. She and Jerry went back to the hotel in the afternoon after getting lunch and took a nap, then went back, spending the evening holding hands and cuddling. She got to “know” Sean that evening and Mike and William as well, them laughing at how head over heels Jerry had been and how it made them want to puke. 

She and Sean sat and watched a couple of bands together passively while they had dinner from a food truck. There was a comfortable silence between them, like the old days. He was still fun and friendly, but more relaxed and sure of himself. She adored him. 

“So how’s it been going? Seems like you and Cantrell are getting serious pretty quickly,” he remarked, finishing his street taco.

“Yeah, things have been great so far. Trying to see each other when we can while you guys are still touring.”

“I can tell. So you want to be with that old man, huh?”

She smiled, “I do.”

“Why’s that? Big age difference,” he was questioning her motives, but nicely, as only he could. 

“Can’t explain it well, just instant chemistry, and we haven’t gotten sick of each other yet,” she played it off, trying to keep it light. 

“So just a sex thing then, huh?” he was trying to figure it out.

“No I wouldn’t say that, but that’s definitely part of it.”

“Don’t hurt him. He’s whipped,” he hugged her around the neck and tousled her hair. She knew then that they were going to be good friends again, and she was glad. She had missed him. He had always been great to her, and to Jerry. 

“I won’t. I’m glad you care about him so much, he’s lucky to have you. And I’m lucky to know you.”

“Wow, I am honored,” he said, pretending to be emotional. “I am glad to know you too, Miss Grier. You’re pretty cool.”

She smiled and thanked him. They watched the rest of the band in an easy silence until Jerry came up and wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her. 

“Give me a break,” Sean said, pretending to gag. 

Jerry kissed her again, exaggeratedly, and they all laughed. 

She was looking forward to getting to know William and Mike better, but she was hoping she would have plenty of time and opportunities for that in the future. 

The next day, she watched most of the bands and Alice in Chains was playing a headlining set that night, so she wasn’t with Jerry as much. They played an awesome show, and she admired how good he looked, all in black, rocking out. By that point, several people and bands knew her and that they were together, and came and told her how awesome he was. She knew, and she was proud of him. He had achieved fame, notoriety, and longevity in his career. He worked so hard and was so brilliant. 

After the show, she made her way backstage to meet up with him, and before he saw her, she noticed a couple of women trying to talk with him, both attractive and dressed well. She hung back, waiting to see what he would do, remembering him in the nineties being flirty with fans often. 

He barely batted an eye, excusing himself as they gushed about his performance, and she thought she heard him say something about having to go find his girlfriend. 

She was shocked. She made her way toward him so he could see her, and his face lit up when he did. 

“Hey baby,” he pulled her close and kissed her. She saw the fans over her shoulder, jealous and murmuring to each other. She played it up, jumping into his arms then slipping her tongue in his mouth, and he was all about it. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against his crotch. A few moments later, Grier pulled back a little, seeing the girls’ mouths drop open, and grabbed his hand, walking away with him. 

“What was that all about? He asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, just marking my territory,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelashes.

He glanced back toward the direction of the women. “Ah. I barely noticed them, was just trying to get to you.”

“I love that.” 

“Do you love this?” he pulled her hand to his crotch, her feeling how he’d grown just from kissing her. 

“Yes, I do...and I’ll take care of it on the way back to the hotel,” she licked her lips suggestively. 

“Jesus, what did I do to deserve you?” he pretended to pray, looking up at the night sky. “For real though, I’m so glad you came to Wisconsin this weekend. I’ve loved having you here with me.”

“So am I. I’ve had so much fun. Being with you of course, and getting to see and meet the bands. A lot I didn’t know before this weekend.”

He rubbed her hand, “good. I’m glad you like it and that you were okay to hang without me when I had to be somewhere else. You aren’t clingy - that never ends up working out for me. I like that you’re social and you make an effort to get to know the people I’m around.”

“I love Sean,” she gushed. “And traveling and meeting new people in general, and I’m really into music, especially live. All of this has been right up my alley. I can see myself being happy with this lifestyle, even though it’s crazy. I was so bored living in Indianapolis, working a dead-end job for years, tied down with my ex, and feeling like my life was passing me by, but had been too scared to make a change. I’m so happy I finally did, and that it led me to meet you.”

He stopped her, by that time almost at the exit and parking lot, where their car was waiting for them. “So am I, Grier. Really. You’re what I had been missing in my life, and I didn’t even know it.”

That night was a late one, and they got a red-eye flight back to Portland, sleeping on each other the whole way, worn out.

They spent the next few days together until he had to head to Pennsylvania for a show on that Wednesday. She was with him in Burien that weekend, though he had a charity golf tournament that Sunday, and she spent the day there, him introducing her to some people he thought she’d like. Then he went to New York for a show that Monday the 25th. After that, he was done for a couple of weeks until a show in Seattle then a month off til a weekend festival in September in Chester, PA. They saw each other as much as they could, both making weekend trips to each other and FaceTiming often. They counted down the days until they could be together more easily and worked on a plan, not wanting to get too serious until they could have a normal relationship but both having trouble with the in-between. 

Late one night, after sex, he leaned up on one elbow and trailed his fingers along her arm. She looked at him. He brought up the night they’d met, and told her that at first glance, he’d disregarded her as just a young fan, hot for sure, but wouldn’t have wasted his time, and typically wouldn’t have said much to her if anything. However something had made him look again, and once he caught her eye he had to talk to her, and instantly. “It was like a gravitational pull or some shit, I couldn’t have stayed away from you if I’d tried,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “Never had anything like that happen. And from that moment, it was over for me. I knew I wouldn’t be letting you out of my sight anytime soon. Sure, we need to get to know each other better still, but man...I think I fucking love you.” He kissed her. 

She echoed his sentiments, leaving out the fact that she’d already been in love with him for a long time, but was inordinately happy to hear it from him. 

He bemoaned that he wished she could come with him to everything, not wanting to be away from her, and she felt the same way, but they had an end in sight. She’d be going with him to the festival in September and they’d only be touring through early October. So they started making plans. They planned on her staying with him in Burien every other weekend, and every other week he’d stay in Portland. He bought and furnished a beautiful condo in a great location downtown and asked her to move in there so they’d have more room. He needed to be able to write somewhere and work too. She had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with her handsome next door neighbor, but she agreed. 

He also had an assistant meet with her to go over the things she would need to bring to his house and bought duplicates so she wouldn’t have to pack every weekend, like toiletries, makeup, clothes, and the like, and the dog sitter would cover anytime she was out of town. They also kept his refrigerator stocked with the food she wanted, and she had their contact information for any time she wanted to make changes or add something. A stylist also met with her to shop for special events, like premieres or award shows. The whole process made her feel very special, and that this relationship was really serious, although she knew for him it barely dented his bank account. But it was a lot to her. 

She laughed the first time she looked in her closet at his house and found an extensive amount of fancy lingerie, which she did NOT request. 

After the show in New York at the end of August, it was her weekend to go to Burien, and she felt like she was starting to get comfortable there, not really needing to pack anything, getting used to the drive or the flight, sometimes the train, and had gotten her bearings when she was there. If she didn’t drive her Prius, she would drive his Range Rover while there and he would drive one of his Corvettes. She had found a local gym and had met a girl there she liked well enough to get coffee with sometimes. As she got older, one friend made a huge difference. Jerry also helped by introducing her to everyone he knew, from the mail lady to his friends and their partners. For the most part, when she and Jerry were together, they were completely together, but he had his own life just like she did, with work and hobbies. He played golf, fished, hunted, watched a lot of football, and wrote and practiced music often, and there were various appearances he had to do that came up. She had figured out that the best way to be with him was to have her own life and not plan everything around his. She decided that if she was going to live in Washington part-time, she’d better get to know it and put herself out there, just like she had in Portland. 

Jerry flew her to see Drake in Los Angeles during his month break and got her backstage too, remarking dryly that Drake would be all about her. She was so grateful and had a blast at the show and meeting him afterward. Being with a celebrity certainly had its perks. She couldn’t believe how many celebrities Jerry knew, not just in the rock world. Actors, musicians, talk show hosts...famous people he’d met through the decades. She sometimes had difficulty grasping his level of fame. She got a rush when a celebrity she had met approached her and remembered who she was, and how most friends of his became fast friends of hers, and vice versa. She went to the Grammys with him, he came to book launches and galas of hers, and they did their best to be supportive of each other and appreciate the others’ hobbies. Lots of Seattle Seahawks football games, rap concerts, and hip vegetarian restaurants together. Being a cheerleader in high school, Grier liked football well enough. She’d also been on the golf and softball teams, among other things, always super involved. Jerry loved that about her. She’d had season tickets at Purdue every year and got pretty into it. She made an easy switch to being a Seahawks fan, never being partial to an NFL team beforehand. In college, she’d played intramural volleyball and basketball for fun and to stay busy, always being fairly athletic, just as Jerry was. She marveled at how good he was at both music, sports, and being a cool ass dude in general. She was often surprised at his level of consideration for her, having learned a lot about relationships in the past and applying it all to theirs, truly trying his best. He also had an awesome assistant who was there to pick up the slack and make sure she was well taken care of. 

About a year into this arrangement, which was working fine for them but was tiring, always staying somewhere different, pictures and rumors surfaced that Jerry was having an affair with a blonde woman, maybe 15 to 20 years Grier’s senior. Jerry and Grier had never made any attempt to hide their relationship from the moment it started, despite their age difference, and by this point, their families and friends were all involved and supportive of their relationship, so it became an ordeal, dealing with the sympathetic and well-meaning questions from her coworkers to the nosy and leading questions from journalists who tracked her down at home and work. 

Jerry denied the accusations but was cagey about the details and who the woman was when pictures surfaced, looking nearly as bad as the paparazzi made them out to be. There were captions on articles saying Grier Collins, the gal pal of Jerry Cantrell, scorned or Ever the Bachelor, Jerry Cantrell Cannot Cope with Monogamy, and the like. Of course, all of the articles online or in tabloids included pictures of the beautiful, young Grier looking sad (caught by paparazzi not smiling) or she and Jerry looking serious as they walked Peach or something, and made lots of references to their massive age difference, which she couldn’t blame them for. It was big. It was a dark time, and the first time she’d really been bothered by Jerry’s fame. They went through a couple of weeks of living apart, in their respective houses, and she wondered if it might be the end for them because he knew she wouldn’t deal with infidelity. 

At the end of this time, he made an unannounced trip to Portland and surprised her while she was out with some girlfriends at a swanky club, finding her using her phone’s GPS, she assumed. He was dressed for it, looking amazing in black and catching the eye of many when he entered and made his way over to her. He looked serious, and she didn’t know what to think. Her heart fluttered at the sight of him, like always, but she was surprised he would bother her while she was out with friends because it was unlike him. She looked at him, waiting to see what would happen, her friends expectant as well when they noticed at the same time that the blonde woman in the pictures was behind him. Grier stood up, instantly on the defense. Had he brought his new woman with him to throw in Grier’s face? She hadn’t taken him to be that petty. The woman was a beauty, for sure, but stood far from him. 

“What’s going on?” She was upset immediately. 

“Before you jump to conclusions, Grier, I want to explain something. This is Catherine, from Harry Winston. She’s my jeweler and always has been. Not that the paparazzi had any interest in publishing that part,” he scoffed. “I wasn’t ready to tell you that I have been spending quite a bit of time with her because I didn’t want to have to lie, and I didn’t want to bring this up amid all of the rumors and trash talking. I know you’ve been through a lot with this, and I am so sorry. Unfortunately, it sometimes comes with the territory. Grier, you have to know I would never cheat on you, no matter how it looks. No one has ever remotely interested me like you have. I love you so much, and I don’t want to even try to imagine my life without you. Ever.”

Her girlfriends were practically drooling, Elise recording it with a smile, and Grier’s heart was beating out of her chest. “So...you’ve been spending so much time with Catherine here because...why?” Though she was catching on.

Catherine smiled at Grier, a genuine smile, and unlocked the small briefcase she was holding. Jerry took out a small black box with the Harry Winston logo on it. “I’ve spent so much time with her because we’ve been working to design this.” He opened the box, getting down on one knee. Inside was the biggest, most gorgeous diamond ring she had ever seen, with intricate detailing, made to fit both her finger and her style. She was ecstatic and started to tear up. 

“Grier Evelyn Collins, I love you more than anything. Will you marry me?

Grier nodded, laughing at all of the attention and the theatrics. “Of course I will, Cantrell.” She stood, smoothing her silky maroon short-sleeved dress, his eyes widening at her black thigh-high, high-heeled boots, and kissed him, wrapping her arms around him. He then placed the ring on her finger, which looked as if it had belonged there all along, and looked around to see her family and friends from Indiana and all of her friends from Portland, as well as the rest of the band and a ton of his friends as well in attendance all of a sudden. 

“I’m glad you said yes because Kamilah had the idea to have our engagement party now,” he smiled, and she noticed his eyes were a little misty. She felt honored, knowing what a big deal this was to him, too, and everything he had endured with the media while just trying to propose to his girlfriend. Grier found out after talking with her friends that he had helped set up the girls’ night also and shook her head. She was glad she’d dressed up. They had talked about marriage but hadn’t planned a specific timeline or for life after. They had both tried to be present and focus on the now instead of getting ahead of themselves since they started, concerned with the age difference and making sure they were more than just physically compatible. 

Epilogue

They fully enjoyed their engagement period, feeling more settled and excited to make such a big commitment to each other. 

They married at a castle in Ireland the next summer, a lavish ceremony for the 52-year-old who was no longer a bachelor. All of their friends and families were in attendance, which basically turned into a rock show at the reception, instead of karaoke, live performances from some of his buddies. It was perfect. They honeymooned in Europe, her favorite, taking two months to travel and enjoy it. 

They lived mainly in Washington but spent a lot of time in Portland still. She finally gave up her job so she could tour with him and did freelance work through her company as well as one in Seattle, which ended up being a perfect fit. Once married, Grier finally felt comfortable spending his money after years of him trying to get her to. She became a barre instructor in her free time, and filled in at a hip local bar and restaurant occasionally, trying to build up her friends group and feel more settled there. She took lessons in hair and makeup, since she was interested, and learned how to do her own nails as well. She hired a trainer to work with her and Jerry a couple of times per week in their home gym and a cook to meal prep for them a couple of times per week as well. Over the couple years they’d been together, Grier had, in fact, inspired Jerry to live healthier so he’d be around longer and look his best. He’d been eating healthily, exercising, and taking better care of himself in general, losing a little weight, toning up, and hair and skin looking healthier and more youthful again. He almost always had a beard, mustache, goatee, or other facial hair because Grier loved it. 

Two years or so into marriage, they got pregnant with their first child, a son named Jerry Fulton Cantrell III, whom they called Tripp, and a year later, a daughter named Lana Jocelyn Cantrell, and both had similarities to both parents, with Grier’s Turkish and Welsh descent and Jerry’s Norwegian and Czech heritage. They took them on tour with them for every show, hiring a part-time nanny to help out and keep them on a good schedule. She spoke multiple languages with them and was a godsend, often helping out when they were at home, too, so she and Jerry could work or get out sometimes. 

Grier Cantrell, waking in her cozy home in Burien, sunlight streaming in, and mentally looks ahead to her day. It’s been over five years since the meet and greet in Portland and there have been some changes. She has a meeting with an author, Jerry is writing with the band, and they’re going to dinner with friends in the evening. She’ll hit up a Pilates class and they’ll eat the meals they prepped together Sunday afternoon for lunch. She smiles, content. Her feet hit the warm floors, and she nurses her sweet Lana, who had been crying for her. She hears Tripp pouncing on Jerry in the master bedroom soon after, waking him. The sounds of them wrestling and Tripp’s delighted squeals make her laugh. She and Jerry make breakfast together, juggling the kids. Afterward, sipping coffee together on the front porch, they hold hands, babies, and pets playing nearby, and looked happily to the future.


End file.
